Two Kingdoms
by slam a revolving door
Summary: Jasmine has never thought about marriage. Now she's being forced to marry a prince of Kilmere a potentially old man with a wife already! So she does what any self respecting princess would: she runs away. But if she finds love, will it end in tears?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of fairytales. **

**Claimer: But I do own this story. **

**Chapter 1: Well. Don't I just feel loved **

I run after my brother, laughing hard.

"Get back here you twit!" I shout, as he laughs wildly. I am catching up to him… just a little bit closer…

"Jasmine."

I skid to a halt as the butler steps out in front of me.

"His majesty, the king, and her majesty, wish to speak with you."

"Yes. I will be along shortly." I speak impatiently. Dave walks closer. As the butler leaves, he turns to me.

"They want to speak to you? What have you done this time?"

I look at him.

"You know what? I really don't know!"

He frowns, concerned.

"You had better get along then… who knows how bad the punishment will be."

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"Mother… Father… You wished to see me?" I ask, adopting their formal tone.

"Jasmine… draw closer." Father does not even bother to get off his chair. I walk cautiously closer. "Don't look so wary, we're not angry with you."

"That's a first." I say sarcastically. Whoops, did I say that aloud? Father and Mother exchange glances, but do not say anything.

"That's better." Father says, looking at me. "We just wanted to…talk to you."

"Okay… let's talk." I say in a mock-cheerful voice. "What about?" Father and Mother never wish to see me without a reason.

Mother nods to a maid standing to the side. The maid reaches in a chest, and pulls out a mirror. Mother takes it, nodding regally.

"Thank you!" I pipe up, grinning at the maid. She smiles, but says nothing.

"That's enough, dear." Mother bites her lip. She holds the mirror out to me. "Jasmine, look in here."

I look at the mirror. It is very beautiful – silver with jewels set in it – but I don't understand what Mother wants me to see.

"_In_ it, not _at _it!" Father snaps. Ah, right… _in _it…

I look _in _it.

"What do you see?"

"I see me." What sort of question was that to begin with?

"Really?" Mother says, rather amusedly. "I don't."

Um… okay?

I look again. Maybe there's something special I'm meant to see. But all I can see is a girl with long dark blond hair and pale blue eyes. Me. Right?

"I see… a princess." Mother says, quietly. "A princess with a duty to her country." Okay… so I see you're giving me the whole 'you have a duty' speech… but why the mirror?

"I see a beautiful princess." I instinctively look over my shoulder to see if my older sister has entered the room. Nope, no one.

"I'm talking about you." Mother says, slightly irritated. _Me?_ I am not beautiful. That has always been my sister's job. Melissa is fair and blonde and tall. She doesn't run, nor ride. She does not have a tan and she has Mother's piercing green eyes. I cannot help myself. I cough, I splutter. Mother and Father look at me.

"Haha… that was a joke right?"

"No." That shuts me up nicely.

"Er… so… I hate to be blunt…" But bluntness is coming anyway… "But where exactly are you going with this?"

Mother grimaces.

"If you'll just let me finish… _dear._" Suddenly the word 'dear' sounds so much more menacing on Mother dear's ruby red lips.

"Okay… okay…" I hold up my hands peaceably. Mother stands up – possibly for dramatic effect.

"You are a princess and you have a duty to your country. As you are not Crown Princess you have to work harder to fulfil that duty. Nevertheless, we have decided to help you."

Uh-oh… this sounds ominous…

"H…help me?"

"Yes. You see dear." Mother stands next to me. "We have arranged you to marry the Prince of Kilmere.

And that's when my world stops moving.

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"What? They can't marry you off!" Dave exclaims in indignation. "I mean… look at you!"

"I've had enough of looking at me, thanks Dave." I say dryly. "What exactly am I meant to be looking at?"

"Well… you're pretty! Heaps of guys will want to marry you…"

"I think that was kind of their point." I roll my eyes. "But I disagree with that statement, just for the record."

"And you're only sixteen!" He continues.

"I don't think it matters to them." In fact, it didn't.

_"I'm only sixteen!" I exclaimed in shock. Mother and Father exchange glances. _

_"And your point being?" Father asks, finally contributing to this discussion._

_"Let me handle this darling." Mother tells him. She turns back to me. "Dear, there is no better time. You, frankly, have never looked better, and I…I was your mother much upon these years."_

"Actually, no. Scrap that. It doesn't matter a jolt to them." I grimace. "Look, they're going to marry me off to some rich, probably old, prince, whose main duty is to wait until his age old father dies! I mean, the King of Kilmere is old right?"

Dave winces and looks away.

"Nearing his one hundredth birthday. The Kilmere's have always taken the throne late."

"Argh!" I scream in frustration.

"I know you've had enough bad news for the day… but…"

"There's a but?"

"Yes… do you remember me telling you that Kilmereans can have more than one wife?"

"Yes…" I trail off. "No! Don't tell me –"

"The Crown Prince of Kilmere is married already."

Thanks Dave. Suddenly my life has just gotten a lot worse.

"Oh, so it's not bad enough that they're going to marry me off to some rich, DEFINITELY old prince… they want me to be his SECOND wife?"

"Seems like it." Dave looked away.

"Argh!" I bury my head in my pillow. "Anything else you want to tell me? That maybe he has two wives and I'm to be his third? Or maybe that he's nearly dead? Oh, how about this?" I brandish my copy of _Jane Eyre _in Dave's face. "Does he have a mad wife in the attic? How can I _live _with a guy with a mad wife in his attic? Do they expect me to? And what if –"

"Calm down. You don't know that yet." Dave looks at me worriedly.

"That's right…. I don't know that yet…" I murmur to myself. "He's worse than that, isn't he, Dave?"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"Shut up. You have to calm down. When you've calmed down, I'll come back and talk to you. We can even come up with a plan. But only when you've calmed down, okay?"

"Whatever."

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"I've calmed down." I say, walking up to my brother. He releases the bow and shoots the arrow. It flies way off target. I roll my eyes, and pick up a nearby bow, and string the arrow on. He turns to face me.

"Really? Good."

I don't answer for a second, while I release the bow. It hits one of the outer rings of the target. Dave glares at me, and strings another arrow on – our natural competitive instincts taking over.

"You said you'd come up with a plan." I remind him.

"No…" He says grimacing in concentration. The arrow flies as he releases it and lands closer to the target than mine. Dave smiles smugly at me, and the challenge in his eyes is evident. "I said _we'd _come up with a plan." My arrow lands just outside the centre.

"Okay, plan. I can either marry the prince or not marry the prince." His arrow lands next to mine. "Personally, I prefer not marrying the prince, but there are so many complications with that plan." I smile triumphantly as my arrow hits the centre. "Bullseye!" I declare.

"You win…" He grumbles. There's not a mean streak in Dave. Putting down the bow, we sit in the grass. "Look," says Dave tentatively. "I think that if you really don't want to marry the prince you should run away. I don't know how well that'll work, but it'll give you time, right?"

"I suppose…" Suddenly I am reluctant to leave this place that I know so well. Then an image of a old wrinkly man lifting my veil ripples across my visual cortex, and then I know I have made up my mind. "Okay, details, please."

- End of Chapter 1 -

**A/N: I don't know if you liked that so review and tell me! I don't mind flames as long as you tell me what you didn't like about it and give me a chance to improve. Please? Virtual brownies for anyone who reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Look, fairytales have been around longer than I've been alive. Would you really believe me if I said I owned them?**

Chapter 2

I sneak into the stable, glancing once at my watch. 11 o'clock. Perfect. Dave's words echo in my head.

"_Okay, this is easy, so calm down. At 11 o'clock, I'll go call the guard for some random reason; you get your horse, and you exit through the **west** exist. Do you hear me? The **west **exit."_

Right. I run through the stable quietly, until I reach Demon's stall. What? Did you really expect me to have a pretty grey mare with a star on her forehead called _Snowflake_? Ergh. And that's another thing. White horses are grey, okay? And that's why it's so annoying to listen to all those fairytales with princes on white horses coming to rescue princesses. Firstly, they _can't_ have a white horse, and secondly –

Okay, I'm getting carried away here. I don't usually use a saddle. But days on horseback can hurt.

Not that I know from experience.

I swing myself up onto Demon's back. I am dressed entirely in black. And Demon is a black horse. So hopefully, I blend in with the night. I look at my watch. Okay, must move now.

Demon breaks into a trot; he can obviously sense my urgency. The gate is nearing… nearing… WAIT. I pull Demon to an abrupt stop. I can see guards in the distance peering in my direction.

Whoops. Wrong exit.

I make a quick turn and head for the **west **exit. As we leave the palace grounds, I hit myself in the head.

"Stupid." I growl. Demon's ears prick up. "Not you, you silly horse." I laugh quietly. "So, Demon. Where do we go?"

"Head down towards Kilmere. No one will think of looking for you there – they're much too dense. I think they would search Beroe and the surrounding regions first. After all, you're running from a marriage to that country, right?"

Brilliant. Kilmere isn't that far away… just a week's journey. I grumble quietly to myself, checking to make sure I have enough food.

"Come on Demon." I say, wheeling my horse around and galloping off towards the west.

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Well, at least the guards aren't hot at my heels, as the age-old cliché goes. The sun is peeking through the hills and shining into my eyes. Look, I appreciate the fact that poets seem to enthuse over the 'brilliant colours of the sunset' … but I? I really don't get it. I mean, think about it. The sun rises. Good. Yes. We're all happy. The sun sets. That's great… _why_ go into endless rhapsodies about it?

Yes.

Moving on now… I look around at my surroundings as light seeps into the day. I can see the distant blur that is Kilmere. I am riding through a field. I pull Demon to a halt, and jump off.

Great. My shoes are soaked, and my feet are too. I curse myself internally for forgetting that the fields are usually dewy in the morning. Oh well. My feet will dry. I lead Demon through the grass to a dry clearing between the trees.

Food. Must have food.

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Time now: one o'clock.

I leap back onto Demon, and urge him on. I laugh wildly, with one hand tucking my braid under my hat in order to look as much like a boy as possible.

Crud.

Stop. Halt. Wait. Don't hear me. Don't see me. I'm not here. If I close my eyes, will you not notice me?

He stops and turns my way.

Obviously not.

"Hey, boy. You there!" Oh good. I'm a boy now, am I? Well I suppose that's better than being Princess Jasmine, betrothed to the **old, rich **prince of Kilmere.

"What do you want?" I ask rudely. The man draws closer. I suppose he is handsome in a snobby upper class way.

"No need to take that tone with me." He sounds vaguely amused. I glare.

"What do you want?" I repeat tersely.

"I take it that you are in a hurry." He smiles lazily.

"And I, my friend, take it that you are not as dim-witted as I originally thought." I am enjoying myself, rather. It's not everyday that a princess can be as rude as she likes. "Tell, me, kind sir, how may you trouble a lowly peasant like myself?" I ask in an affected manner. He laughs. Darn, I wasn't going for humour… more insulting?

"What is your name?"

"Why should I tell you?" I shoot back. "You haven't told me your name."

Again he laughs, a free easy sound that –

Stop there. Stop right there.

"Alright, my name is… John."

I tilt my head on its side and survey him.

"You lie, and so shall I, my name is Moon-face."

He stares at me, then chuckles. He extends a hand.

"Geric."

Hm, interesting name… Kilmerean, I'm guessing.

"Jas… Jasper." Slip of the tongue… nearly gave me away.

"Jasper, do you know where the palace is?"

I consider my options. I can a, tell him where it is… or b, feign ignorance.

"I think it's that way…" I gesture vaguely. "I'm not sure… I'm new to this area."

"So am I." Geric smiles.

"Kilmere?" I ask him. He nods in reply.

"You?"

"No… I'm from Beroe."

"Ah, the countries that way?" He asks.

"Yes…" I trail off.

"Are you going to Kilmere?" Geric presses on.

"Mmhm…" I murmur. "I should be going… I want to…" Get out before the guards notice I'm gone. "…miss the morning rush."

Geric has his slightly amused look on his face again.

"Morning rush?"

Okay, so there is no morning rush. Slight oversight… so what?

"Yes, better go!" I am babbling horrendously. "See you around!" I wave. He catches my arm. A normal princess would swoon at being so close to him… okay, he is rather handsome… but you know what?

I don't give a straw about him.

"Jasper…where are you staying in Kilmere?"

"No idea, trying to seek… fame and fortune." I beam. NO! NOT THE SLIGHTLY AMUSED LOOK AGAIN!

"In Kilmere."

Okay, so maybe Kilmere isn't the usual place for fame and fortune… Big deal.

"Yes, I must go. Goodbye!" I urge Demon to a trot.

"Nice riding. How about if you go train with the guard or something? In stables somewhere? The royal stables?" He yells after me.

"Good idea!" Very good idea. Go Geric! "Thanks, will do!" I lean forward. "Go." I whisper to Demon, and he breaks into a canter then a gallop. "Bye! Thanks for the advice!"

"No problem!" Even without looking I can tell that he has that LOOK again.

What is with that?

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I can see the city gates nearing…

Okay, so maybe I'm lying. Kilmere is still six days away, and I am on the roadsides at dusk. I slow Demon to a walk, and direct him to a clearing behind a thicket of trees. Dismounting, I roll out my sleeping mat.

"Today has been a very strange day, Demon." I sigh, curling up on it. The stars wink down at me. "Stop winking." I glare. "It's rude."

Okay, so I'm slightly mad. Is there a problem?

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CURSES! ANCIENT DAMNATIONS! FIENDS OF THE MOST EVIL SORT!

I jerk awake, as yet another showering of leaves falls upon me. It is still night, and that grinning face inches from mine is…

"Geric!" I hiss. "What are you doing!"

"Waking you up." He says serenely.

"What are you doing here?" I ask curiously, forgetting my initial anger. "I thought you were going to the palace?"

"My duty there has shifted… I am not needed there for a while." He says, looking slightly thoughtful. What is with this guy and slight expressions?

I decide to probe further.

"Did you see the princesses? I heard that the oldest girl is very pretty."

"Princess Melissa? Yes, she is."

"Do you like her?" I stifle a smile.

"Princess Melissa? Why would she marry a guard like me?"

"Oh, so you like her, but you don't think she'd have you."

"I don't know…"

"Just say yes." I laugh.

"Yes. Okay. Yes."

I crow triumphantly.

"I knew it!"

He blushes and looks away.

"What is a man supposed to say to that? Especially when a young _boy_ whose voice hasn't even broken yet manages to squeeze a confession out of him."

Oh. So I'm just a little kid who he's humouring.

"Excuse me, Geric, but I wish to sleep."

He looks at me, **slightly** astonished.

"You're not offended by what I said?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am." I am at my most princessy… er… princey? "You insult my intellect, my very being by passing me off as a young pup with little purpose in the world but to entertain you." I lie down on my sleeping mat. "Will you tuck me in?" I say mockingly.

"I'll do better than that." Geric says. "I'll apologise."

I sit up straight.

"You? Apologise?" I certainly did not anticipate this reaction to my spiel.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Jasper. You are as good a companion as I could ask for."

"And better." I crow. He laughs.

"Yes, better."

"Okay, goodnight." I say, curling back into my sleeping roll.

"By the way, Jasper." He comments. "Why are you sleeping with a hat on?"

Because otherwise you'll see that I'm a girl.

"I have a birthmark." I adopt an embarrassed attitude. Hopefully Geric, being the gentleman he is will not mock me.

"I'm sorry." He looks down. "I didn't mean to –" Ha, I was right.

"It's okay. You weren't to know." I WILL GO DOWN AS THE BEST ACTRESS, er… actor IN HISTORY!

"Goodnight." Geric calls over his shoulder as he hunkers down in his blanket.

"Goodnight." I say sleepily in reply.

**A/N: Virtual brownies go to drugged-on-chocolate, embracing, hoolihoopgrl131, SouthCraft Piratess, and BuffyShakespeareAusten! THANK YOU GUYS:D :D :D YOU GUYS ROCK:D Wow, I'm going mad… :P**

**Ice cream/hot chocolate (you pick) to the people who review this chapter! P**

**s.a.r.d.**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the concept of fairytales.

Chapter 3

I wake up earlier than Geric, just in case my hair is peeking out from underneath my hat. Making my way over to the stream, I rinse my arms and face and braid my hair, pinning the two braids to the top of my head and putting my hat over the top.

The splashing in the stream has awakened Geric. I walk over and fold away my bedroll. He rolls over on his to look at me.

"You are very fastidious for a boy." He comments. I look over at him, annoyance in my eyes. He cannot be seeing through my disguise! I refuse to let him see through my disguise! No! No! No! Bad Geric! Very bad Geric!

"Not all of us are as untidy as you lot." I say refusing to look at him. "Just because you're… you're…" I have so much to say that for a moment the words overwhelm me. He looks at me inquisitively… mockingly.

"Yes, what exactly am I, _Jasper?_" He says my name with such disdain that I cannot continue. Okay, maybe it's not my name, but it's close enough…

"It doesn't matter." I say, turning away. Geric sighs and grasps my shoulder. I shiver slightly at his touch. He turns me around to face him. His eyes blaze down into mine. I close my eyes, and react in the only way I know how.

I step on his feet.

"Ow!" Geric yelps. "What was that for?"

I jump up onto Demon's back.

"For invading my personal space, you twit!" I call back. I urge Demon into a trot and circle the campsite. "I'm going!"

"Wait!" Geric calls. "You haven't had breakfast yet!"

I roll my eyes.

"I don't need it. Do you?" I laugh carelessly. Something flashes in Geric's eyes. He leaps up onto his horse.

"No." He says. "Definitely not."

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The sun is hot, beating down on our heads. I draw my cloak protectively around me. Geric reaches into his saddlebag and pulls out a roll… food… I look away to distract myself, and my gaze settles on his horse. He had to have a grey. Gallant Geric, rescuing maidens on his _white_ horse! Points to me for alliteration! And besides, I _don't _need rescuing!

"What's your horse's name?" I ask. He looks vaguely surprised.

"He's not mine. The… stables at Dell… the one at the palace… lent him to me." Darn. So I can't even despise his taste in horses in peace.

"What were you doing in Dell?" I ask, meaning, _what were you doing in the palace of Dell?_

"Curious, aren't we…" He digs into his bag and pulls out another roll. "Here, have some food. You look like death warmed up."

"I'm fine." I say impatiently, trying to ignore the pangs of hunger deep inside my belly. "Who knows what you've done to the food!" Poison? I wouldn't blame him…

To my surprise, he chuckles.

"You can never be too careful, hey. But I promise I haven't done anything…" I shake my head stubbornly. "Okay… well, I'm sure even _you_ have heard that the prince of Kilmere is engaged to be married to the princess of Dell."

My stomach gives an almighty lurch.

"I did hear of it, just before I left." I reply casually. GO MY ACTING SKILLS! Then a thought strikes me. "What do you mean _even me_?"

He waves his hand dismissively.

"I didn't mean anything offensive, if that's what you mean."

I roll my eyes, and reach out to flick my hair back over my shoulder –

Darn. I forgot. I'm a guy. Guys don't have long hair.

I surreptitiously transform the hair flicking into a neck scratching. Geric looks at me, amused.

"Don't mind me… it's just an insect bite… continue with your story…" I laugh nervously. _Please don't notice my momentary… MOMENTARY… lapse in concentration… _Geric frowns, but doesn't protest.

"The prince sent me… to visit his bride-to-be… to present her with a gift."

I force back the urge to snort.

"Why, can't he visit them himself?" Stupid, spoilt, _old_¸ evil, lazy, and other similar words, prince. "Is he too royal? Is he too spoilt, stuck-up and stupid to visit his own bride?" The words rush from my mouth.

I chance a glance at Geric, whose expression is suddenly wooden.

"Sorry. I forgot that in Kilmere loyalties run deep." My tone is bitter. If Mother and Father were… but what does it matter?

"It's okay." He says, smiling gamely. "It's just that, being part of the palace guard and all…"

"Yes… I understand." I look down at the ground. "I'm sorry."

Geric shrugs and laughs. As he halts, I follow suit.

"You feel things too strongly for a teenage boy." He smiles, but I can sense the sadness in his smile. "How old are you?"

"Younger than you, obviously." I say evasively. Geric smiles, but his lips are lifted in bitterness, not humour.

Wait. Stop right there.

Am I getting… shock horror… philosophical?

Ergh. Neverrr! I will resist! I must resist at all costs! Argh!

I look at Geric, who surveys me with a raised eyebrow.

Whoops. I must have said that aloud.

"Yes, you did." He confirms. That means I must have said _that_ aloud too. Oh the confusion of it all!

"Sorry." I mutter. Geric shrugs.

"Yes, you're obviously younger than me… but not by a lot, I'm sure."

I tilt my head on its side.  
"Doubt it."

"Sure."

I open my mouth to debate my point further, but he hisses.

"Sh…"

I look behind us, and two riders are rapidly gaining on us. One raises a gloved hand in greeting. I raise mine doubtfully back. Geric looks at me.

"Do you know them?" He asks dubiously.

"No, but since when did friendliness hurt?"

"Since they might be bandits?" He scowls at me.

Bandits. Oh. Right.

I put my hand on the hilt of my sword. Geric chews his lip.

"Are you sure you can handle that?" He asks. I look at him, offended. "No… I just mean… you look… scrawny… maybe we should just ride away…"

"Ride away?" I echo incredulously. "You mean… run away? Flee? Act like a complete and utter coward?" Geric looks away.

"Well, I can't defend both of us." He says. I feel like he has punched me in the stomach.

"Forget it." I turn away from him.

Unknowingly we have come to a stop. I glance back at the riders and let out a very un-masculine shriek. The rider with a blue cloak has drawn out his sword and so has the rider in the black cloak.

"What do you want?" I demand to know.

"What bandits usually want!" Geric snaps. "Our possessions!"

Blue-cloak Bandit shrugs.

"He's right, you know."

So we are fighting. I thank Dave for the times he knocked me to the ground sword-fighting… and the times I knocked him to the ground.

Geric is on the group with Blue-cloak holding his own well. Black-cloak isn't as good as Blue-cloak, but he is still pretty good.

His blade flicks out and catches my arm. I wince, and feint to the left, then thrust to the right, catching him on the waist. He lets out a sharp groan. I chance a glance over at Geric… then realise Blue-cloak is fleeing. Geric brandishes his sword, after him, a groan escaping his lips.

I turn my attention back to Black-cloak. His wound is bleeding profusely, and he casts a panicked glance at Blue-cloak. He starts to run, and I chase him.

"Leave him!" Geric yells, but my blood is racing, and I can't stop. Black-cloak turns to face me, and he snarls, lashing his arm out at me, and knocking my hat to the ground. His eyes widen in disbelief.

"It's just a girl!" He calls to Blue-cloak.

"It doesn't matter! We go now!"

They disappear and I stand staring after them. I hear a anguished groan, and I turn and run over to Geric.

"Are you alright?" I ask anxiously. Why am I so flustered? Why should –

Let's not continue that train of thought.

"I'm fine!" He protests, but he continues to breathe heavily. I roll him over, and see a wound in his side.

"Ergh." I look around for a makeshift bandage.

Nothing, nada, zilch

I let out a frustrated sigh, and tear off a strip of material from my cloak. I use it to wrap it around him.

"Eat." I thrust a roll over to him and a water canister. "And drink."

He does so obediently, and manages to sit up.

"You're a girl?" He looks shocked. Delayed reaction…?

"And yet I'm still standing while you're sprawling on the ground." I snap, looking away. "Yes, I am a girl, but judging by the way you're looking at me, you'd prefer me to be a goat!"

Geric chuckles and pulls himself up to his feet. He stands in front of me, wobbling slightly on his feet.

"No… it's fine… I think I would prefer to have a girl companion than a goat companion… but…" He pretends to look unsure. "At times, you are enough to make any man wish for a goat…"

I bat at his chest, annoyed. He winces, and I bite my lip.

"How long until we get to Kilmere?" I ask Geric, changing the subject.

"We're nearly there." He says turning away. "Soon… very soon."

I sit down in the muddy grass, and drop my head into my hands. Geric kneels down besides me.

"Are you okay?" He asks gently. I shrug.

"Just tired… and hungry." I reply with a wry grin.

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**Geric: **

I sit up suddenly in the middle of the night as a chilly breeze floats across the clearing. I shiver and stand up, picking the lantern off the ground. The horses grunt in their sleep. Walking over towards the horses, I hear a small whimper.

"Jasper?" I whisper. "Jasper, are you alright?"

Fumbling in the dark, I make my way over to where she lies in her bedroll. I shine the lantern down at her, and suddenly, my breathe has been taken away.

Her hair, which was braided before, is spread out on the bedroll around her. it shimmers in the lantern light like a halo. She curls up defensively in a tight ball and lets out a quiet whimper.

I feel like I am intruding. I turn around and make my way back to my bedroll.

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Ice cream and/or hot-chocolate to:

drugged-on-chocolate, BuffyShakespeareAusten, embracing, Southcraft Piratess, hoolihoopgrl131, cinnamon-sg, Poisonmoon, rchlptl190, chanelle, icefirestar and kittenlyss.

THANK YOU GUYS!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing fairytale-ish! Don'sue!

Chapter 4

I shoot a quick glance at Geric, almost self-consciously. But that's stupid. Why would I be self-conscious around _Geric_?

Riding on his _borrowed_ horse beside me, he smiles.

"Is everything alright, milady?" He asks me courteously. I feel an irrational rush of annoyance flood through my system.

"Geric, _what _does it matter that I'm a girl? Stop treating me like the court ladies you're used to! I'm a ordinary girl – a peasant! I don't want these superficial manners!" I snap at him.

Geric grins, and to my surprise, my stomach flips over. Ergh, I must be feeling that breakfast… I did tell Geric I didn't need any, but he was too busy being polite to pay any attention to me…

"Alright then." He laughs. "Jasper, tell me. What do you plan on doing in Kilmere?"

"I will train in the Royal Guard. Like you told me." I answer, slightly confused. Geric looks away, uncertain. "_What?_" I ask, irritated.

"Nothing!" He answers, looking troubled. I preserve an ominous silence, forcing him to answer. "Well… problem is…you're a girl. And… the Royal Guard is composed of… well, males."

"So? I'll go back to my boy disguise. I'll cut off my hair this time, so you can't tell. I'll wear baggy clothes. No one will know." I beam. Geric shakes his head.

"That won't work…" He looks very embarrassed. "You've never seen guards train, have you?" Unconsciously, I begin to blush, remembering a time when Melissa would drag me down to watch the guards training… swimming… bare-chested.

Ick.

Drat it, I'm starting to sound like… myself. How does that work?

"Any other alternatives?" I squeak. Geric laughs, and I glare at him. "So maybe I don't like the thought of hairy brutes like yourself prancing around with a sword. Is that a problem?"

He shakes his head innocently.

"Never a problem, my princess."

WAIT RIGHT THERE. HANG ON A SECOND.

My princess? I'm not a princess! Really! What, don't you believe me?

I'm convincing. Really I am.

Geric sees my strained expression.

"Don't worry, Jasper." Oh good, he still thinks I'm Jasper. "I can find you a job somewhere… the prince respects me. " I am firmly unconvinced.

"Why would the prince respect you?" I blurt out. Geric laughs again. I could listen to that laugh forever…

STOP, MIND, STOP!

"Let's just say… at the moment, he'll do anything to oblige me." Geric smiles, but I note that one side of his smile is lifted up in bitterness.

But I'll let it slide.

"Er… Geric…" I ask oh-so-casually. "How old is the heir to the throne… the prince of Kilmere?"

Don't suspect ulterior motives… don't suspect ulterior motives… don't suspect ulterior motives…

I don't have ulterior motives. REALLY!

"The crown prince is fifty-three. The princes of Kilmere usually marry late." He smiles again, but not with mirth.

"Are you okay?" I ask, showing… nooooooooooooooo!… compassion. Geric shakes his head, like a dog trying to get rid of water in its ears.

"Of course." He grins cheerily at me, his voice slightly higher than usual. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Er, I don't know, maybe the fact that you're pretending to be happy when you're really not?

"No reason." The day when I speak my thoughts is the day when Geric marries Melissa.

Which, when you think about it, isn't that unlikely.

Hm, maybe I should think about getting new analogies. And maybe a wider range of vocabulary.

"Tell me about the royal family." I request, eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly. Geric looks miffed.

"Are you one of those people who lap up stories about them?"

I shake my head.

"I just think it's a good idea if I know something about the place I'm going to." I fib. Ooh, bad Jasmine! Very bad! Geric looks unsure, then nods slowly and hesitantly.

"Well… the king at the moment is King Phillip the fifth – he's a hundred next year…"

Ick, the old father-in-law. Yuck.

"His wife was Isabelle – she died three years ago. They had five children…" Four sibling-in-laws… "Three girls and two boys. There's Duchess Kristine, sixty-seven, who was married to a duke, as by law, girls cannot inherit the throne. Next is the crown prince, Frederick."

Frederick? I have to marry a guy named _Frederick_?"

"He's married to a Countess named Elise. She's sixty and he's sixty-six." Geric's voice is monotonous. Suddenly I feel sick, and I guess it must show, because he glances at me, and exclaims:

"Are you alright, Jasper?"

I nod, glad of the sudden change in subject.

"Are we nearly there?" I ask, my voice coming in a low whisper. Geric looks up and smiles.

"Yes! We are here!"

The city gates loom, tall and magnificent, before me. The streets sparkle with life and energy. The people mill around the gates, cheering as we ride in.

"Er… Geric? Is it just me, or the people very enthusiastic about us?"

Geric avoids my gaze, instead he leans forward to pat the horse.

"Kilmereans are very friendly people." He says easily. "But if you want to get away from it all…" He leaves the question unfinished. I grin and nod. Geric looks up, finally meeting my gaze and gives a devilish grin. With that, he breaks into a full gallop.

"Come on!" He yells after me. I look at the people cheering us on, and smile self-consciously. Then I let out a yell, and Demon gallops after Geric.

"Faster Demon… just a little bit more…" I urge my horse on. He pricks up his ears and runs faster… Geric and I are neck to neck now… hang on a second…

Where _are _we going?

I slow Demon down, and stop. The cheering crowds are far behind now. Cheering crowds? Slight exaggeration on my part… or at least I _think _it's only slight.

"Geric…" I frown. "Why _were_ all those people cheering?"

Geric frowns as well.

"Well… I'm a war hero type figure. They respect me."

"Oh okay." I nod, mollified. "And also because you're in the Guard?" Geric nods as well.

We look like little nodding dolls… hehehe…

Geric dismounts, and I follow suit.

"The stables are up ahead." He tells me as we lead our horses.

"Geric…" I mumble. "What _am_ I going to do?"

"Do?" The poor boy… man… looks confused. "You mean a job?"

I nod slowly.

"I mean, now that I can't be a…" – here I blush – "…guard."

Geric chuckles. I glare at him.

"I can ask if you can work in the stables if you so desire, milady." He says with a gallant bow. The effect is ruined by his soft laughter.

"Thanks!" I am so excited at the very prospect that I give him an impulsive hug. He stiffens for a moment, then picks me up and swings me around. His arms linger around me for a moment before he puts me down. I breathe in deeply and smell the familiar scent of horses mingled with… something else?

There is an awkward silence.

Noooooooooo! Awkward silences are BAD! I am the queen of awkward silences!

Hang on, that's not a good thing, is it?

"Er… the stables are just around the corner." Geric clears his throat. Thank goodness one of us has awkward silence repellingness.

That didn't make sense, did it…

----------------------

As I step into the stables I feel like it is home. The home that Dell, with all its beauty and splendor, never was. Geric looks at my face and gives a slightly amused laugh.

"I'm assuming you like it here?" He grins.

"Don't assume." I say haughtily. "It's making an **ass** out of **u** and **me**." He rolls his eyes, and I break into a wide grin – however unladylike that it.

"But yes." I sigh in happiness. "I do like it here. Very much indeed." Thrusting Demon's reins to Geric, I spread my arms out and whirl around and around, savouring the cool air on my cheeks and the soft nicker of the horses all around.

Then I hear an agitated whinny, and my eyes fly open. Heedless of any danger, I run down the aisle and out of the stable until I reach the source of the whinny.

A stout man stands on the edge of an outdoor ring, nervously advancing towards a chocolate-colour stallion, halter in hand. The stallion tosses its head and screams, a terrified high-pitched sound. It rears and the man runs backwards, ducking out under the barrier from the ring. He grabs a whip from the ground and makes to go back in.

"Stop!" I yell. The man looks up in surprise as Geric comes running out of the stables, leading both the horses.

"Jasper, _what_ are you doing?" He bellows. I ignore him and run towards the man, grabbing the halter from his hand. With that I duck under the barrier.

I stand just inside the ring. Geric attempts to follow me, but the man holds him back.

"It's not safe, sir." He tells Geric.

Hrumph. So I can get killed but Geric shouldn't?

But all thoughts vanish from my head as I walk slowly towards the stallion.

"Come on boy… it's okay… I'm not going to hurt you…" I soothe. The stallion's ears prick up, and although his eyes me warily, he makes no attempt to get away. "Everything's alright… I won't let anyone hurt you… nothing's going to go wrong… it's okay…" I continue advancing.

Slowly I put my hand on the horse's face, stroking him. He closes his eyes and nickers with pleasure. I smile. Slowly, I hold up the halter and try to put it on. The horse sees it and his eyes register terror. I pull away –

Too late.

He rears up, and the sudden movement takes me by surprise, and I fall to the ground. I can dimly hear Geric gasp as the man holds him back. I scrabble away from the landing hooves and get to my feet.

"Get out of there, missy!" The stableman hollers. I ignore him.

"What was that for?" I ask the stallion softly. "I told you I wasn't going to harm you… it's alright, really." Slowly, I put my hand on its mane, giving it a good rubbing. He eyes me, but not hostilely. Finally, I hold up the halter, and hold it out for him to inspect. The horse nudges it, then loses interest. Slowly, I put it over his face…

He nudges me, asking for another rub.

I laugh in relief, and lead him to the man.

"Your horse, sir." I say, curtseying.

---------------

Much love and Turkish Delight to: BuffyShakespeareAusten, drugged-on-chocolate, Scoutcraft Piratess, li'l bling bling, Tas, cinnamon-sg, hoolihoopgrl131, leannalea07, ionalama, slippersRfuzzy. D


	5. Chapter 5

**D: do not own Fairytales**

**Chapter 5 **

"What WERE you THINKING?" Geric bellows. I turn my nose up at him.

"I was thinking that I couldn't let an innocent horse be subjected to such torture. And seeing as you weren't going to do anything, I decided I would intervene."

That's right, Geric. See how you respond to _that_.

"She has a way with horses, sir." The stableman says, gingerly taking the horse's reins from my hand. The horse snorted, but didn't rear up.

"Ask him!" I hiss. Geric glares at me. _Obviously_, his ego hasn't yet recovered from its bruising. I glare at him some more and finally he rolls his eyes and gives in.

"Jasper was wondering if you would be so kind as to…" Get _on _with it! Stop the formalities! "… let her have a job in the stables?"

The stableman shoots me a, frankly, astonished look.

"A job? Here?" He asks me in his country accent. "A lady like you?"

"I'm not… a lady." I say through gritted teeth. I hate that term. To be a lady means to be a trophy wife. Nothing more than that. Someone with no rights. Bound to your husband, often in a loveless marriage. Like mine would have been – with the prince of Kilmere.

"Well, I would be glad to have you…" The man says, still looking unsure. "What do you think, Sir?" _Why_ are you asking _him?_ This is _my_ life!

"I'm not the one in need of a job." Geric replies. YES! That's RIGHT, Geric! The man turns to me.

"Well… if you're sure… I'm not going to treat you easy because you're a girl…" I roll my eyes.

"That' fine. Really. I'm sure."

The man breaks into a wide, open grin.

"Good then." He holds out his hand. "The name's Warren."

"I'm Jas – Jasper." I shake his hand, cursing myself internally. "Nice to meet you." Warren beckons to me.

"Now, if you'll just step this way…" Geric coughs. "I apologise, Sir." Warren makes a quick apologetic bow to Geric.

"No matter, Warren." Geric says in a friendly tone. "I was just wondering if I could have a quick word with Jasper in private?"

Warren winks at me and I feel my face heat up.

"Certainly, Sir." Warren replies amicably, turning around and heading back inside. "I'll be inside when you're ready, Jasper."

"Thank you." Geric waits until Warren is safely back inside before speaking. "You do know that was horribly dangerous, do you not?" His voice quivers with anger. I stick out my chin defiantly.

"Yes."

Geric glowers.

"No, you _don't_ understand, I've never been so frightened in my entire life, and it was all for you, you foolish girl!" He glares down at me.

"Imagine that." I say faintly. Geric glares at me some more, before realising what he had said. He did the smallest of double takes and looks at me silently. I meet his gaze straight on.

Bad move.

His eyes are the most brilliant shade of green ever. Yet, as I draw closer to him, I notice little gold flecks in them. They sparkle with a hypnotic light.

Why are they getting closer?

I freeze as I realise what is about to happen. Why I freeze, I really don't know, but it's just as well, considering what happens next.

Geric stops, and in those wonderful eyes, I see anguish and another strange emotion that I don't recognise. And… is that… regret? My face burns with shame.

"Yes." Geric says abruptly. His words are too loud, so loud in the empty silence. Geric coughs and tries again. "Well, I'm very glad that you got the job."

"So am I." I say quietly.

"Yes… good." Geric replies stumblingly. We seem to have nothing more t o say to each other. "I should go." He tells me. Yet he makes no move to get away. My face still has not cooled down, so I start to move away.

"Thank you for all you've done for me." I tell him, backing away slowly. I cannot take my eyes off him, yet I cannot free myself from his gaze.

"I didn't do anything." He replies softly.

"Goodbye, Geric." I turn and break into a quick walk. Anything to get away from him and my traitorous emotions. I try to not to look back at him until I get back to the stables. Then my resolve breaks and I chance a quick glance at him. He is still standing back at the ring, staring down at his hands.

----------------

I work harder than I have ever worked before. In fact, I throw myself heart and soul into looking after the horses, rubbing them down, grooming them, exercising them, picking their hooves… even down to the tedious tasks, like mucking out their stalls. It is all I have left.

A week passes and Geric hasn't come to visit me.

But wait. Why should that matter? Of course it doesn't. It doesn't matter a jolt to me. Why should it?

Warren is a kind man, but very hardworking. And of course, he expects us all to be as hardworking as he is. There are four of us. Two boys: Cameron and Damian, and two girls: Wendy and myself. Cameron and Damian are brothers. Cameron is five years older than me, and Damian is only three years older than me. Wendy is my age. And for the first time in my life I find myself making – shock horror – _friends_.

"Wendy!" I call down the stall. "Banjo needs more feed!" Banjo whickers and nudges me. "Okay, boy…" I laugh. "You'll get fed. Soon…"

"Coming!" Wendy rounds the corner with a new bag of feed. Wendy is tall where I am short and pretty where I am plain. Yet she is so _nice_, that you cannot, for one moment, envy her.

"Thanks." I smile at her gratefully as she pours feed into Banjo's trough.

"No problem." She smiles. Then she lowers her voice. "How's Damian?" When you live in the stable you get to know the ins and outs of stable life. Wendy doesn't – she goes home every evening, whereas the boys and I stay at the stable. The first thing you should know is that Wendy should, and must, win the prize for the longest standing crush on the same male. She's been in love with Damian ever since she arrived in the stables – a _mere_ ten years ago, when she used to help Warren muck out the stalls. She has had to work since she was six to help support her family of twelve. Yes… a slightly big family.

"He's good." I shoot her an amused glance. "Haven't you seen him yet?" Another fact: Damian _does _reciprocate. But he doesn't know Wendy does, because she's too shy to show it. Cameron and I are to go-betweens and we laugh together at the angst the two are going through. But we stubbornly refuse do more than to encourage the two, because love achieved by oneself is the type of love that is most satisfying.

IT'S TRUE! REALLY! I DON'T JUST ENJOY WATCHING WENDY SUFFER!

"No." Wendy replies despondently. "I only just got here." I laugh slightly.

"Well… here's your chance now." I gesture indiscreetly… I mean DISCREETLY… VERY DISCREETLY… down the aisle at the tall boy coming down towards us.

"Hi Damian." I greet him cheerfully.

"Hey Jasper… Wendy." See what I mean about not showing their emotions? Honestly! Sometimes people like this need a little… helping… hand…

"Look, guys, I should go. Tolardo probably wants his breakfast!" I make to run away, but Damian looks at me.

"No, wait."

I stop in my tracks.

"Yeeeeeeeeees?"

"Cameron wants you, I think. He's down by Nutmeg's stall."

Phew. I thought he was going to STOP me.

"Thanks!" I smile and skip all the way down to Nutmeg's stall.

What? I'm crazy, I am.

-------------

"Hi Cam." I wave happily to Cameron. He straightens up, and grins at me.

"You left the two lovebirds together then?" Cameron is cute in a relaxed, laid-back way. He reaches out with one hand and brushes the lock of golden-brown hair that is always falling into his eyes.

"Yes. Was the 'Cameron wants you' a ploy to get them together? Because I'd already thought to leave."

Cameron laughs.

"So I can deflate my ego if they DO get together – finally?"

"Yep." I nod smugly. Cam laughs again, his blue eyes lighting up. Somehow, inexplicably, they remind me of Ge-

No. DON'T THINK ABOUT THE GIT!

"But no." Cam continues. "There's someone here for you. A visitor."

"A visitor? Who would visit me?" I ask, confused.

"I would." Cam teases. "When I'm old and wrinkled and the girls no longer find me attractive." I hit him on the head. "Ow!" He groans.

"You deserved that." I say smugly.

"Really, now." Oh-oh… He has a wicked glint in his eyes… "In that case, you won't mind me embarrassing you in front of your visitor?"

"Nooooooooo!" I howl, trying to get away. Darn fast runners! Cam picks me up and swings me over his back easily. I struggle and pound on his back, laughing wildly.

"Let go of me, you brute!" I laugh.

"No." Cam says stubbornly, laughing along with me. "I'm taking to you to your visitor." He starts running and I cling on tightly.

Finally he stops and puts me down.

"There you go." He grins.

"You evil git! Don't ever do that again!" I slap him lightly. He ducks and laughs mockingly.

"Be nice. You have a visitor."

I look up.

"Hello, Geric." I squeak.

---------------


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own fairytales  
**

**Chapter 6**

Geric gazes down at Cam and I. Curse the vertically-challenged genes! Hang on, wait. Just curse the stupid genes in general! But then again, Cam isn't short... in fact he's almost as tall as Geric...

"Hello." He says in a cold voice. Eek. I turn away from him abruptly, looking straight at Cam.

"Cam, this is Geric. Geric, Cam."

Okay, _what _is with these men and their expressions? Geric has a dawning look of horror on his face and Cam looks extremely confused.

"I know who he is..." Cam starts.

"We've met before." Geric interrupts, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Jasper, I think I left a saddlebag of mine here the... last time I was here." My cheeks flare and he falters. "Would you mind looking for it for me?"

"I can go..." Cam offers.

"No!" It is my turn to interrupt. "I'll get it... I want to..." Avoid a one-on-one conversation with Geric for as long as possible. "...check on Tolardo's feed." Cam looks at me for along moment, a suspicious look on his face. Nononononono! I'm _innocent_! Read my lips... er... expressions - INNOCENT. I'm so innocent that the letter 'i' stand for I'm innocent. The letter 'n' stands for nothing's wrong. The letter 'o' stands for... wait. That's not right, is it. No, it's not right. Realising that both men are staring at me with curious expressions on their faces, I turn and flee.

I run down the aisle, my footfalls landing lightly and barely makinga sound. HANG ON. WAIT! STOP! I skid to an abrupt halt and duck around the corner into the nearby stall. It's owner nickers softly, and I look up already dreading what is to come. Please don't let this be Maniac's stall... please don't let it be Mani- argh!

I curse under my breath and launch myself out of the stall as Maniac brings his - wait HER - hooves down in the place where my head had been. Glancing quickly around - doing some quick thinking - I sneak into Horse's stall. Seriously, whoever named that poor horse had no imagination whatsoever. It's like calling a human, Human.

Yes.

I peek around the corner of the stall again and recoil, snickering to myself.

"I knew it, Horse. I knew it! I'm the greatest matchmaker in history! Well... except for Emma Woodhouse of _Emma_ by Jane Austen..." I muse. "She was good... but always wrong. Which makes a good matchmaker, right?" I'm ever so slightly confused... "Well... anyway.." I smile oh-so-sweetly at Horse. "Time to make them nicely embarrassed."

Which is, when I think about it, something I'm terribly good at. When I was back at home, Lissa - that is, Melissa - my older sister used to hang around with a different guy every week. And I used to be an expert at finding where they were and walking in on them. Or at least directing an unsuspecting servant or guard towards that general area.

I close my eyes. I hadn't realised how much I missed Lissa. I never imagined, in my wildest dreams that I would miss my vivacious, flirtacious, perfect sister.

* * *

_"Jassie, what are you doing?" Lissa asked, flicking her perfect blonde hair over her shoulder. I look up from my book._

_"Reading." I reply shortly. Lissa wrinkles her nose, but smiles. _

_"Put that book away, Jassie, it's boring. And you've read it - twice!" _

_I look at my copy of Emma. The picture on the front depicts a smiling woman in a simple black dress. Is it just my imagination, or does she look affronted? I contemplate her for a few moments and decide that she does look affronted. No, I'm _not _mad!_

_"Well, what do you suggest I do? It's snowing, so I cannot take Demon out..." _

_Lissa sighs._

_"His name is Black Beauty, Jassie, you know that..."_

_"No, that's what Mother named him. He's mine and I call him Demon." I reply tersely. "So what do you suggest I do?"_

_"Would you like to come out with me?" Lissa asks, smiling encouragingly at me._

_I look at her, taking her outfit in for the first time. She is wearing a pale green dress with silver trimmings. It is simple and looks perfect on her. She wears a simple silver band on her forehead, set with a simple emerald that hangs on her brow and accentuates her beautiful eyes. It is impossible to despise her - she is so kind and beautiful, unlike all the other courtiers who flock around her. They are all fake and adorned. Lissa has her own beauty. In fact, she could almost be my role model, if not for her little weekly trysts with various guards and nobles..._

_"Where are you going?" I ask blankly. Lissa rolls her eyes._

_"To Anna-Maria's birthday ball - remember? You were invited and Mother ordered you to go. Come _on_, Jassie. You're not going to find any suitors stuck at home reading like this." She wheedles me._

_"Firstly, my name is JasMINE, Jas if you please, but NOT Jassie. Secondly, maybe I don't want to get married. Have you thought of that?" I snap. Lissa looks shocked. "And I am _not _going to some stupid birthday ball." _

* * *

I did end up going. But that's another story. And we are _not, _and I repeat - NOT - going there. Well, maybe someday. But not today. I'm busy. I cough and close Horse's stall door loudly. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Wendy and Damien spring apart. I turn around and do an exaggerated double-take. 

"Wendy! Damien! Have you seen a stray saddlebag? I've a visitor who's looking for one."

Wendy looks at her feet, her cheeks stained pink. Damien fixes his gaze at a spot just over my shoulder.

"Why are you guys acting so strangely?" I ask oh-so-innocently, looking at them in apparent confusion. They speak at once.

"We're not!" - Damien.

"We were just..." - Wendy.

They look at each other; Wendy's blush deepening. They try again.

"We were just..." - Damien.

"We're not!" - Wendy.

I adopt a befuddled expression.

"We're not? We were just? You are sending me conflicting messages and confusing me." I say in a pathetic voice. Wendy glares at me. Her face is the same colour as her dress. It is rather - okay, VERY - amusing.

"Stop _it, _Jasper!" She insists, stamping her foot in an unusual display of temper. "I _know _you saw us k..." Her neck is red now.

"Saw you doing what?" I ask, continuing with my innocent charade. "K..." My hand flies to my mouth OF ITS OWN ACCORD. "Kissing? Wendy? Damien? But you guys don't like each other!" Oh I am too good, just too good. I guess it is like they say: practice makes perfect. And heavens knows, I've had enough practice over the years.

"Were you looking for a saddlebag?" Damien asks me, abruptly changing the subject. I look to press the previous subject some more, but relent. Maybe I am being too cruel. But at least it makes them see how transparently opaque they are!

Which makes sense.

Truly ruly it does!

Truly ruly? Pardon me there - I was momentarily transported back to babyhood.

"Yes, I was." I reply with a look at Wendy that reads: DON'T THINK I'VE FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS. Yes, in the capitals.

"Well... the only ones we have are here." Damien leads me into a dusty room where the saddles and harnesses hang. "And they're all ours... well, the stables'. So you can tell your visitor that it's not here."

"Okay." I bweam at him and skip cheerfully out. Yes, bWeam. I bow and curtsey to each horse as I pass. "Good morning Midnight. How do you do, Firefly? It'sa fine day, isn't it, Thunder?"

Okay, maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybeeeeeeeeeeeee I'm procrastinating a tiiiiiiiiiiiny bit, but I _really_ don't want to see Geric. But then again, if I delay too long he'll come in here! Shock horror!

I wave hurriedly at each horse and run out. Geric is standing, talking seriously to Cam. As I watch, Cam nods and they seem to reach an agreement. I edge closer. So maybe my mother told me that eavesdropping is rude. But then again she also told me that green never goes with blue and look what I'm wearing now.

A ragged blue dress with green trimmings, in case you were wondering.

"... thank you, Cameron. I appreciate thi - Jasper!"

I glare.

"So welcoming!" Geric muses, sounding slightly amused.

"Nothing better for you, gracious sir." I say, sweeping him my best curtsey. Which is, considering my princess training, really very good. Whoops. I make a point to stumble over and trip.

_Unfortunately, _this lands me at Geric's feet. He looks surprised for a moment, then bends down to help me up.

"Are you alright?" He asks, concerned. I can feel his gaze burning into my skin in the typically cliched manner of fairytales. Wait. I _hate _fairytales. Like Cinderella for instance - how much can you tell about each other from one dance? And Sleeping Beauty? _Why _on _earth _did she sleep for a hundred years? I mean, the prince she married could have been her great great great great grandnephew or something!

But why does this matter? I'm not going to have a 'happily ever after' - and you know what?

I. Don't. Care.

Well maybe I do... just a little bit. After all, no matter how cliched it is, everyone wants to have a happy ending.

But who cares? I can't run from my parents forever. They'll catch up in the end. Okay, stop RIGHT there. Despondent thoughts GONE. Happy meaningless thought mode ON. Wait, it's on all the time.

"Jasper?" Geric asks uncertainly. "Are you alright?" He repeats.

"I'm fine..." I reply dazedly. I look at him, then quickly avert my gaze. BAD things have happened the last time I looked into his eyes. BAD BAD things. I stand up. Cam looks from me to Geric, then back again. I glare at him, then remember something important.

"You owe me!" I exclaim gleefully. Cam looks confused again, then understanding lights up in his eyes. Actually, I'm not entirely sure _how _understanding lights up someone's eyes. After all, it's not like they have little lightbulbs behind them... is it?

"They got together?" Cam gasps. "I'll pay you _gladly_! Now I don't have to listen to him moaning all night!"

"I have to listen to him too!" I grumble. "We share a room, remember?"

Suddenly remembering Geric is still standing there, I look over at him. He has a funny look on his face.

"Are you alright?" I ask, echoing his words from earlier.

"I'm fine." He says shortly. "Look, I'm sorry, Cameron..." Cam. No one ever calls him Cameron. "... but may I have a word with Jasper alone?"

"Sure." Cam shrugs, smiling easily. "See you later, Jas. I'll pay you off in a sec."

"I'll hold you to that!" I laugh, trying to look anywhere but at Geric. I watch Cam disappear into the stables and gulp, turning to face HIM.

"Hello Jasper." Geric's voice is soft. "Would you like to go on a walk with me?"

Erm... how about no?

"Sure."

We walk down across the pasture and Geric watches patiently as I greet each horse grazing. When I bow to Pyro, he clicks his tongue.

"You can stop stalling now, you know."

"I'm not stalling!" I lie blithely. He rolls his eyes. "Much!"

Geric laughs - a sound I haven't heard in a long time.

"It's alright, really. I just wanted to talk."

"You are." _Why _don't I know when to be quiet?

He laughs again.

"I would prefer that we went somewhere a little less open."

I open my mouth to make another remark, then close it again. There's no real point, is there? We walk in silence until we reach a little stream. Geric leans against a tree trunk and I sit myself down on the grass, leaning against it as well. He slides down next to me.

"How are you?" He asks softly. I raise an eyebrow.

"Is that all you came to ask me?"

He shrugs.

"Yes and no..."

"Well, I'm fine." It's true - I've never really been happier. "And you?"

"Tired.The prince of Kilmere's fiance has run away, did you hear?"

I tense.

"No?" I say, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

"Yes..." He sighs, closing his eyes. I notice the dark rings around them. "But her sister - Melissa - is coming to reassure the prince. I can't say I think she'll succeed." His voice is casual enough, but I am not for one moment deceived.

"Melissa? Wasn't she the princess you admired?" Like so many before you?He opens his eyes.

"Yes." Geric admits reluctantly.

"Well, isn't that good?"

"I don't know!" He exclaims. "I really don't know!"

I lie on my back.

"It's more complicated than I think?" I ask.

"Exactly."Geric slides onto his back as well. We lie there together for a moment in silence until he speaks again. "I was wondering... if you would like to be her maid while she's here?" He asks.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own fairytales. **

**A/N: I wish I could reply to all your reviews – you've all been really great, but I have a physics test on Friday which I am deaded for. I have written this because you guys don't deserve to wait so darn long and because it's my relaxation. Love you all though. I promise I'll reply to reviews for this chapter. **

**:) Smile, becausemy world depends on it. :)**

**Love, sardine.**

**Chapter 7**

No. I did not just hear that. In fact, I'm so sure I did not just hear that that I'm going to stick my fingers in my eyes and hum. Yes, that's right, hum… Gack, who's pulling my fingers out of my ears? Geric's worried face peers down at me.

"Jasper?" Geric frowns down at me. "Jasper, what on earth are you doing?"

"Nothing…" I squeak. Nothing at all… _really_!

"So what do you think?" He asks me. "Would you like to be Princess Melissa's maid?" Er… how about no?

"No thank you…" I manage to contain my horror to a bare minimum. Geric peers into my eyes.

"Come on, Jasper, I really need this from you." He pleads. I shake my head firmly. "Why ever not?" Geric asks, his puppy-dog expression still on his face.

Because she'll blow my cover?

"Because… I have an objection to working for royalty!" I blurt out. Geric tilts his head on its side questioningly, inviting me to continue. "Royalty is so spoilt, so pampered. They can barely raise a fork for themselves. And its not their fault either – they've been brought up to believe that, and if anyone tries to rebel they're either kicked into shape or thrown out and disowned!" The words come out in a rush. I stare at Geric unseeingly for a moment, trying to absorb what I have just said. I really didn't know I felt that way about… well, my family!

Geric surveys me thoughtfully.

"Is the monarchy at Beroe really like that?"

Beroe? What? Where did that come from?

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"You said that you came from Beroe?" Geric prompts me, a slightly skeptical expression back on his face. One of his eyebrows is raised. That's not fair! I could never do that! He is still looking at me, so I shake my head and ask him to repeat his sentence. Beroe? Beroe… OH! I remember (at last).

"No… but I've heard stories about Polesvek royalty." I've never realized how strange the name of our country is. Polesvek. Polesvek. Ehehe, POLAR BEARS!

Well, _I _get the connection even if you don't.

"Oh." Geric considers this. "Well, the king and queen did seem a little… pompous, but Princess Melissa seemed nice enough."

That's because she doesn't have the brains to realize how high up she is on the social ladder.

"Really?" I trail off. Geric glances at me.

"Don't you think so?"

"Well, I've never met the princess." I've only spent my entire life with her. "But I heard something she did to her younger sister that wasn't very nice. At a ball."

"Oh?" Geric is interested. He even sits up and leans straight against the tree.

"Mmhm…" I murmur my assent. "But I shouldn't gossip." I continue primly. AGAIN I HAVE PROVEN TO BE THE BEST ACTOR… er… actRESS in the WORLD. Darn my gender confusion nouns.

"Oh." Geric is obviously too much of a gentleman to press the matter further. Hm, but not too much of a gentleman to patter innocent boys with leaves…

I stand up.

"I should get back to the stables to…" Run away from you! "…feed the horses."

"Oh…" For a moment Geric almost looks disappointed and I almost feel guilty. The emphasis is on ALMOST.

"Yes, well, see you!" I make to get away quickly, but Geric puts out a hand and catches my arm.

"I'll walk you back." He says gallantly, smiling.

"I'm fine." I tell him quietly. Why am I so… disappointed? Sulky? Why can't I tell what I am _feeling_? Geric hesitates a moment. GO, GO, GO, GO!

"Alright then." He finally answers reluctantly. "I will come to visit you soon. I'd bring Princess Melissa with me if I can get her to lower herself to a lowly guard."

Lower herself? Lissa's 'been with' males of lower social status!

"If it's you, I'm sure she will." I reply, beaming reassuringly. Geric laughs, a long clear sound.

"I'm flattered." He grins broadly. His hand is still holding my arm. LET GO! I wrench free.

"I have to go. Cam will be wondering where I am."

The grin disappears from his face in a flash. Wow, that was amazing how quick it went! Do it again!

"Jasper…" Geric looks _so _uncomfortable. "Jasper… don't let Cameron hurt you."

_WHAT?_

No, that's not completely out of the blue!

I'm lying – where on EARTH did THAT come from?

"Excuse me?" I gasp. Hey, it's slightly more polite than my original reaction… Geric squirms under my steely (I wish) gaze.

"Don't let him hurt you… he's much older than you. It wouldn't work."

Geric has gone far enough.

"Stop right there!" I cry. "Cam and I are _friends_. Nothing more, nothing less."

_Is that true?_

Go away! You're meant to agree with me!

_But does Cam like you more than a friend? _

"NO!" My hand flies instinctively to my mouth. "Sorry…" Geric shakes his head bemusedly.

"Er…"

Right. Cam. Back on topic.

"He would never hurt me. Never! He understands me – the way you never will!"

With that parting shot I spin around and storm off, fuming.

Geric is a hypocrite. How can he warn me against falling in love with Cam when he himself has fallen in love with Lissa? _Lissa! _But then Lissa was good at fooling people. She fooled me – her own sister! I looked up to her. Such a fool.

I have not gone far when I feel a tentative touch on my shoulder. I turn around abruptly. Geric is standing there, his eyes cool, but his stance contrite.

"I apologise. " He says formally, taking my hand. Ew! Boy germs!

"I accept your apology." I reply, the formality in my voice matching his, measure for measure.

"Good." He says. We stand staring at each other, neither knowing what to say next. I am the first to turn away.

"Good day, sir." With a barely civil nod, I turn and depart. I have just one question left:

Why on _earth_ am I using court language?

--------------------------------------------------------------------

It is a week before I hear of Lissa's arrival again. During that time, Geric has not come, nor have I wished him to. Much. Damien and Wendy are really sweet. So sweet, in fact, that I have refrained from embarrassing them more than three times a day.

IT'S AN IMPROVEMENT! Really!

I am grooming Horse when Wendy comes flying past the stall.

"If you and Damien are looking for a place to engage in less than proper activities, then I'm sorry. This stall is taken." I tell her without looking up. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Wendy blushing. I smile quietly to myself before meeting her embarrassed gaze. Yet another one of my strong points: making people embarrassed. Wendy laughs – a short, awkward sound – before resuming her former enthusiasm.

"Jas! Guess what?"

"What?" I ask excitedly, making a list in my head of the things that could possibly cause Wendy this much excitement:

1) Damien proposed.

2) Damien proposed.

3) Damien proposed.

Perhaps that's not the most expansive of lists… but…

"Princess Melissa of Polesvek is coming to Kilmere!"

Oh. Is that all?

"REALLY? That's amazing!" I cry. "Is there going to be a parade in her honour? Are we going to be in the crowd, cheering, waving and acting the part of adoring fans?" Perhaps I'm exaggerating a _tiny_ bit… but…

"Yes! It's on this evening! And Damien is taking me!" Wendy flushes again. She's just too cute.

"Really?" I smile.

"And Cam is taking you!" Wendy nods vigorously. Cam… oh dear.

"I don't have to go. The horses need to be fed and there are chores still to be done." I protest, turning my attention back to Horse. Wendy grabs my arm, making me drop the brush.

"Come _on_, Jasper! Honestly, you don't do anything at all – you don't go out, you don't see people, you don't get visitors – why?"

"I'm fine." I say stubbornly. Wendy seizes my shoulders.

"No you're not! Look, Jas. I'm not asking you to find a new dress, fix your hair or even bring out your beauty."

"Beauty – cough." I say sarcastically, unable to stop myself. Wendy glares at me.

"Yes – beauty! You are beautiful."

Please don't. I've had enough of these 'you are beautiful' speeches when I was living with Mother.

I let it slide – I'm far too tired to argue. Wendy takes this as encouragement to continue.

"You. Are. Coming. And that is that."

Not if _I _have anything to do with it…

---------------------------------------------------------

This isn't fair. How was _I _supposed to combat all three of them urging me to go, and eventually losing their tempers and _forcing _me to go? Why am I here? Lissa will recognise me, and scream and have me seized by guards. It's not fair!

Wow, I sound really whiny.

Besides, she _won't _see me. She'll be too busy ogling all the handsome fellows in the crowds. And perhaps the guard as well. Not that I care. As long as she doesn't steal Damien away from Wendy, I'm happy.

Now I stand in the crowd with Cam at my side. There is an expectant hush over the crowd as they 'wait with bated breath for the coming of the foreign princess whose beauty they have heard so much about'.

Please excuse the cliché. It is an extremely accurate one in any case.

Cam reaches out and grasps my hand with a brotherly familiarity. He looks across and beams at me.

"Having fun?" He mouths. I roll my eyes.

"As much fun as I can have when I'm forced to attend something." I retort, though a small smile is tugging at my smiling muscles. No! Resist at all costs!

It is rather hard when Cam is smiling himself…

"Oh!" I hear a little girl in the crowd exclaim, destroying the moment. I try to catch Cam's eye again, but his face is determinedly turned away from me. I sigh and strain to see the faint speck in the distance.

Lissa has arrived.

As the open-topped carriage nears there is a collective hush. And I have to admit, Lissa never looked better. Her long blonde hair is piled on top of her head in an effortlessly elegant style, which, with the bits of curls and braids everywhere, would just look untidy on me. She is wearing an emerald gown that sets her eyes off nicely. But since my absence from court, her manner of dressing has changed. Gone are the days of the simple, stylish gowns that distinguished her from the rest of the dim-witted courtiers. Now her gown has large amounts of lace and many glittering threads. Her neck looks strained to carry all the chains and pendants that hang on it, as well as her head, on top of which perches the heavy tiara that she received for her sixteenth birthday from Mother and Father.

The one that she swore she would never wear.

It is large and gold with diamonds, rubies and emeralds set in it. _"To match your eyes."_ Mother had said, smiling benevolently. There are so many intricate patterns on it that the beauty of it is lost and merely looks rough. Everything about it screams wealth and status, and I suppose that is what Lissa was aiming for.

No, not Lissa. Lissa is gone forever. She started fading on the night of Anna-Maria's birthday ball. Now she is completely gone. She has become – as the courtiers insisted on calling her – Melissa.

I turn away, my vision clouded suddenly and inexplicably. Cam casts me a worried look. I try to battle my way through the crowd, but they refuse to budge. The little awestruck girl whispers to her mother again.

"Mummy, she's like a fairytale princess!" Her mother hushes her, but I fix my gaze on Melissa. If it were I, Jasmine, in the carriage, I would have laughed. Heavens, I wouldn't even _have _a carriage – I'd be on foot or on horseback. If it were Lissa in the carriage, she would have smiled. But it is none of those people. It is Melissa, and Melissa stares straight ahead, her fixed, perfect smile in place.

And then she disappears into the castle gates and we can no longer see her.

----------------------------------

Late at night, when a single tear slips out from under my eyelashes in mourning for a sister I never really had, I recall the look on Cam's face when he looked at me.

I don't know what it was, but it was all for me, and it is good.

And I slip out of my bed and pad softly out the door, taking care not to disturb the boys.

I look up at the moon. It has seen so much, and so many people have seen it, as demonstrated by the endless odes the poets have composed. Most go like this:

So many wonders the moon hath seen,

So many cities it has been.

Oh, that I were the moon so bright

That I would fill the sky with light.

Perhaps I'm not the _best_ of poets, but that is _basically _what the poems are about. And it irks me to no end. I walk out and sit under a tree, pulling my cloak tighter around my nightshift. I know I'm not entirely decent, but if men are allowed to wander around with bared chests, why can't I sit under a tree in a cloak and a garment? I close my eyes as the thunder cracks overhead.

The first drop of rain slides down my face. I let the rain embrace me… and remember.

----------------------------------

"_Why hello there, Princess." Lady Eileen smiles graciously at me. I stand at the refreshments table, getting myself a drink. I know my face is flushed from exertion. I have always enjoyed dancing, and there is no shortage of dancing partners here. _

_Of course, there is a great shortage of intelligent conversation. _

"_Evening, Lady." I smile and simper in exactly the same way as she does. _

"_You seem to be having a lovely time." There is no mistaking the jealous edge in Lady Eileen's voice. _

"_Yes, thank you." _

"_Allow me to introduce to you my cousin, Marcus." She beckons to a young man on the other side of the room. He makes his way across the floor towards us. I look at him. He is extremely handsome – he has curly, blonde hair and startling violet eyes. _

_I once heard that eyes are the windows to a person's soul._

_His were continuously shifting and lightly skipping over objects and never staying in one position for long. _

"_Marcus, this is Princess Jasmine. Princess, this is Lord Marcus." _

_Marcus bows to me gallantly. _

"_Would you like to dance, milady?" _

_I nod, breathless all of a sudden. He offers me his hand and we walk to the floor. The last I see of Eileen is her triumphant smile as she walks over to join my sister and her gaggle of courtiers._

--------------------------------------

The rain has gotten heavier now. A flash of lightening startles me. I glance over at the paddock.

Oh, heavens.

Horse is standing there, placidly looking at me.

Ergh.

I walk over to Horse, my eyes searching desperately for a lead rope. As I snatch one from the top of the fence, a grey light is spreading over the horizon.

Ha.

Ode to the dawn.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own fairytales.  
Claimer: But this story is mine. Mwahahaha…**

**Chapter 8**

I am grooming Tolardo when Cam arrives.

"Jasper?"

I studiously ignore him and continue grooming. He pushes his way into the stall and places his hands on my shoulders to face him.

"What's wrong?" He asks softly. I look up to meet his eyes, so soft and caring. I shake my head, willing tears to stay in. "Don't say that, Jas, I know something's wrong. You haven't been the same since… since we came back from the parade… and that has been a week ago."

I shrug. I'm not sure what's wrong, really. I suppose I miss Geric. I miss Geric so much that it hurts. He hasn't been back since our last argument – why should he? And why should it bother me so?

Cam is watching me with a concerned expression on his face.

"Oh Jas…" He sighs, wrapping his arms around me. I relax into his embrace – he feels so warm and comforting. We stay like that for a while, then Cam whispers softly into my ear.

"You know you can always talk to me, right?"

Ha.

No, I can't. There are so many things that I can't talk to anyone about. So what am I supposed to say? Oh, Cam, could you help me escape my parents and sister – Princess Melissa? And while you're at it, could you pass me the bridle and saddle for Tolardo?

Sure.

But it is nice knowing that he is there.

"Ahem." Somebody coughs behind us. We break apart and turn to face the mystery cougher. I step back, surprised.

Geric?

"I apologise for disturbing you, but I wish to take the Princess Melissa out for a ride." He says oh-so-formally. I avoid his gaze.

"Certainly, sir." Cam says composedly. "I shall go saddle up Rose and Lightening."

"Thank you." Geric says to Cam, but his cold gaze is on me. I can feel it freezing up my forehead. Yes, I am short, thank you very much. Cam leaves with one last lingering glance at me. I smile back at him.

ACK! Geric intercepted the smile!

Ehehehe…

"Good morning sir." I say, keeping my voice as level as it can be.

"Good morning." He replies absently. I return to my grooming. Maybe if I ignore him he'll go away.

WHY isn't he going away?

Do I really want him to go away?

I turn around to face him, this time looking straight into his eyes.

"Jasper…" He says. "I _am_ sorry."

"You have said so before." I reply, but not without softness. He reaches out to take the brush from me. I let him, my arm dangling limply by my side. Geric takes my hand.

"I missed you." He smiles. There is something in his smile that I have not seen before.

"And I you." I respond. Geric opens his mouth to say something, but a voice calls out.

"Are you there?"

I know that voice – FLEE!

Instead of running, I pick up the brush and dash around to Tolardo's other side to continue grooming him. Geric's face is a strange mixture of apprehension and eagerness.

"I'm in here, Melissa!" He opens the stall door and walks out. From my vantage point I can see him, but he – nor anyone with him – cannot see me.

There she is – my sister. Her hair is a ridiculous concoction of frippery and beads surrounding her apparently favoured hairstyle – braids and mess.

Ironic.

Her dress is much like the one she wore upon coming to Kilmere – impossible to ride in. Should be interesting.

"Whatever are you doing?" She asks Geric in a smooth, flirtatious voice, which I have never heard her use before. Geric takes her hand and kisses it.

"Merely speaking to Jasper – a stable girl, milady." ICK – he's being so _formal_.

"You prefer to speak to servants than I, milord?" Melissa asks in That Voice.

"Of course not, milady! And Jasper is not a servant – merely a friend." Geric shoots an apologetic look in my general direction.

"You are friends with common servants?" Melissa sounds disgusted.

"She is _not _a servant, milady!" Geric snaps. Bad idea – Melissa pounces.

"She? I understand, milord, you are in love with this servant! Terrible notion – do not forget your duties to me!" With that she spins around and storms off.

Ouch.

Geric speaks.

"I suppose I should go after her." His voice is dejected.

"I suppose you should." I reply.

Neither of us make a move. Geric sighs.

"I suppose she is right. I do have duties to her…" Geric stands up. "But I did want to give your stable this." He hands it to me over Tolardo. I look at it. It is an invitation to the princess' welcoming ball.

"I don't think she would want us to attend this." I say softly. In fact, I _know _she wouldn't want 'servants' at the ball.

"But I do." Geric says with a becoming rakish grin. I smile back at him, but my insides are writhing with fear.

"I… don't like balls, Geric." No, not since… stupid… obnoxious… yes.

He looks so crestfallen, then so suddenly embarrassed that I feel sorry for him.

"Can you dance?"

What on _earth_?

"I… beg your pardon?"

"Can you dance?" He repeats.

Erm… yes?

"I … can… dance." I answer slowly. He looks immensely relieved.

"Good. I thought that…"

Oh.

OH.

I get it now.

"Any fool can dance." I tell him. "You just stand outside and spin."

He laughs.

"Please do come… you don't have to come for all of it… just some?"

"I'll think about it." I relent. Geric smiles.

"I should go now." The smile disappears. "I do hope I haven't offended Melissa…"

---------------------------------------------------

I don't want to go. Why would I want to go?

I'm going.

Wendy is so excited. She looks very pretty – her curly black hair is braided and wound around her head and she wears a simple green dress that makes her large brown eyes sparkle with tiny green lights that I haven't noticed before. Needless to say, Damien can't take his eyes off her.

"Go _away_, Damien!" Wendy squeals. I raise my eyebrows. I have never –_never – _heard Wendy squeal before…

Ah, well, there's a first time for everything.

Damien goes away and Wendy starts rummaging everywhere for her mother's mask. I sigh and hold it up. It is a green mask with tiny feathers around the edge. Wendy breathes a sigh of relief and takes it from me. As she places it on, her eyes narrow in suspicion.

Uhoh…

"Jasper, why aren't you ready?"

"I don't feel well." I squeak. "I really don't want to go."

Wendy places her hands on her hips.

"You don't feel well or you don't want to go? Which one?" She glares at me. I place my head in my heads.

"Both." My voice comes out muffled. Which isn't surprising, really, considering my head _is _in my hands. Wendy sighs and kneels down by me.

"Come on, Jas… please? For me?"

I sigh as well – this is one battle I'm not going to win. Wendy takes my sigh as consent. Instantly, she cheers up. Just by looking at her face I can tell that she is about to ask the All Important Question.

"Good. What are you going to wear?"

"Not a clue."

Wendy's face brightens – that isn't _traditionally _the reaction I get…

"Good. I bought you something."

She brings out a dress – at least I _think _it's a dress. Wendy thrusts it at me.

"Go try it on." She orders. Yes Sire… I roll my eyes, but knowing she will not let the matter rest, I try it on.

It is a pale, creamy dress with a long swishy skirt. There are little white and gold beads threaded all over it and it is really very pretty. The type of thing I have never worn in my life.

I step out to let Wendy see it.

"You know, I'll just get it dirty don't you?" I tell her before she can say anything. She doesn't reply, just casts an appraising look over me.

"It looks good on you."

"Thanks." I roll my eyes. Hm, I seem to be doing that a lot lately. Wendy grabs my shoulders and pushes me into the nearest seat. _Why_ does everyone do that to make me do things? It's not my fault I'm a weakling! She combs out my braid and I squeak in protest.

"Hush up." She tells me mercilessly. "You have such nice hair. Why on _earth _do you leave it be?"

"Hello?" I retort incredulously, pointing at myself. "Stable hand – servant – remember?"

She rolls her eyes at me and piles my hair on the top of my head in a series of braids and twisted strands of hair that is the latest (ridiculous) fashion.

"Do I really have to look like the court ladies?" I grumble. "No, don't answer that." Wendy takes no notice of me until she is finished. Then, she hands me a white mask with gold beads around the edge.

"You're ready."

We step outside and Damien smiles at me before turning his attention to Wendy.

"You look ravishing, Wendy." He compliments her. Then he seems to remember something, and turns to me. "There's this new stable hand, Annie, and Cam has to take her to the ball. She's Warren's niece or something and he pleaded Cam to do it. He would have asked me… but he knows I've Wendy."

"Oh." Funnily enough I'm not that disappointed. Well, I am, but not really… Wendy casts a worried look at me, but I avoid her gaze. "Shall we go then?"

------------------------------------------------

I stand outside the ballroom, in the gardens watching people. I can see Wendy's eyes sparkle in delight as Damien whirls her around the dance floor. They are out of time with everyone else, with the music, with the dance… yet they are in time with each other. I flick my gaze over to Cam, who is dancing with a mousy, brown-haired lass who can only be Annie. He is smiling politely, but his attention is wandering. I can see his eyes flickering around the room, as if he is looking for someone. Over in the far corner, furthest away from all the commoners, Melissa is standing, surrounded by the court ladies and the gallant nobles. Geric is not among them. I cast a wary glance over at the high table where the ancient King of Kilmere sits with his wife and family. The oldest man, besides the King, who sits at his right-hand, must be the Crown Prince. I observe my betrothed carefully. He is old – much older than me, but his eyes and face are kind but tired. I feel a sudden surge of pity for him as he speaks to his father worriedly. He is old – far too old.

I still would not want to wed him.

I see a young man hurry across the floor towards Melissa. It is Geric. He looks gallant, dashing, handsome and other similar words in his formal attire. He speaks to her, kissing her hand and she giggles. I suppose they have made up after all. They begin dancing and I watch.

I cannot watch.

I re-enter the ballroom, checking my mask to ensure that it is firmly in place. Instantly a man asks me to dance. I smile and nod flirtatiously. We join the dance and I watch as Geric and Melissa whirl closer and closer to us. My partner speaks to me, but I cannot hear him – I cannot listen. I nod and smile and give every appearance of listening when in actual fact I am watching (and listening) to Geric and Melissa's conversation.

"…your sister is definitely missing?" They're talking about me… I must keep my head down.

"Oh don't worry about it – my parents have sent out their Secret Guard to seek her out. They'll find her, there's no doubt about it." Drat. The Secret Guard are terribly good… I haven't a chance!

"I hope you are right. This part of the country is not friendly to princesses on the run." Geric does sound concerned. Melissa rolls her eyes.

"Jasmine was never concerned about propriety. I wouldn't know she was a princess if I met her on the road."

"Is that so? Well, the Crown Prince is extremely worried, from what I hear."

"She'll be fine…"

From there on their conversation moves on, but I am left terrified. I excuse myself as best as I can and hurry back outside.

I stare at the stars winking rudely – how long ago that seems! – and try to calm myself down. The Secret Guard has never been known for their gentility. And if they are after me… I have no hope. I cannot continue to live this life – I am putting Wendy, Damien and Cam in so much danger. I have to flee.

I cannot stand it.

This is the one place where I have felt at home. Kilmere welcomed me and made me its own… Perhaps it will not be so bad to be its Queen. But I wouldn't _be _Queen, would I? I would merely be the King's second wife. But to be that in order to stay here? I remember the Crown Prince's tired face and shudder. How on earth can I do that?

A light touch on my shoulder makes me jump. I whirl around and come face to face with Geric.

"Milady." He sweeps a bow and kisses my hand. I let out an involuntary shudder – suddenly reminded of Marcus. Geric notes my shudder and straightens up.

"Jasper, what's wrong." Then as an afterthought – "It _is _Jasper, is it not?"

"Nothing… nothing…" I try to shake off the uneasy feeling. I turn away and walk further into the gardens and further away from the artificial light of the ballroom. Geric follows me.

"Don't be silly, what's wrong?"

"I don't like balls." I tell him, sitting by the fountain, just out of sight of the ballroom.

"Neither do I, really." Geric sits down beside me. I look back at him. He is facing me, his face half in shadow. I lean back against him and feel him stiffen for a momentarily before relaxing again. He places one arm on either side of me so I am enfolded in his warm embrace. I close my eyes.

"I'm so tired, Geric." I mumble. He rocks gently as if he is rocking a baby.

"Why?" He asks softly.

"I'm so sick of all this pretence." I open my eyes and turn around to face him. "Don't you feel it? Everyone is pretending to be someone they're not and it hurts when you find out." I realise I am talking to Melissa, although it is Geric in front of me. Geric sighs and reaches out to hug me. I feel a tear trickle down the side of my cheek.

"You look good." Geric tells me softly as we pull apart. I crack a small smile.

"Thank you." I stand up and pace around the fountain restlessly. "I didn't want to come tonight."

"Why not?" Geric waits patiently for an explanation. I pause.

"I'm going to tell you a story, Geric. A story of a girl and her sister at a dance."

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	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I'm hundreds of years old and own the concept of fairytales. Do you really believe me? -sarcastic single eyebrow raise-

**Chapter 9 **

"So once upon a time, there was a girl – there usually is. And the girl had a sister, and they were completely different. But they loved each other all the same, because that's what you do when you're sisters, right? You love each other. But her sister also loved the frivolous treasures of the court, and that was probably what brought them down."

----------------------------

Marcus and I dance, gliding over the floor with practiced ease and grace. He steers me around the other pairs, and gradually the room grows silent. Everyone is watching us … and I feel uncomfortable for a moment, then Marcus tightens his grip on me, and suddenly I don't mind so much anymore.

One, two, three, one two three …

_The music stops, and I smile up at him, exhilarated. _

"_Shall we step outside, Princess?" He whispers in my ear. I fidget, unsure for a moment, and glance over at my sister for guidance. Somehow, inexplicably, she seems to read my look, and nods encouragingly at me. _

"_That would be lovely." I answer. _

_As we make our way outside, I can hear loud tittering and giggles coming from my sister's corner of the room – hers and the other court ladies. _

_But of course I do not hear the sound of footsteps behind me._

_--------------------------  
_

"They went to a dance together one day – a ball." I continue. There is silence behind me and I feel as though I am talking to myself … or the moon. Did it really matter which one? "And because the girl trusted her sister, and her sister trusted the court ladies, they were both betrayed."

---------------------------

"Your eyes are like the stars." Marcus tells me, placing a finger underneath my chin, and lifting my face up to meet his. I look up, expecting to see warmth in his eyes, but instead meet with cool, icy blackness. But does it really matter what colour our eyes are? Perhaps I've been reading too many romance novels … or listening to my sister's stories too much.

"Thank you." I murmur. He leans in, and somehow I know he is going to kiss me. I close my eyes, my mind surprisingly numb. Yet one thought manages to squeeze its way through: Is this really what I want?

But even as I think that thought, his hands pull away, and the sense of his presence disappears. I open my eyes to see him turning away and leaving the moonlit garden. Shocked, I stumble backwards.

"Ohh … Princess Jasmine has been snubbed…" Lady Eileen mocks, appearing from the shadows with a group of girls … including Lissa. "Looks like he just couldn't stand you."

I do not reply, opting instead to back away from the gaggle.

"Lissa?" I whisper uncertainly.

My sister says nothing, only looks mockingly at me. Her expression is exactly the same as that of the other girls.

And that is what destroys me.

I back away some more, then amid jeering laughter, I start to run.

---------------------------

"The girl was shamed by her sister. She was different, and that was what destroyed her." I look back at Geric who is still sitting on the fountain, my expression cool and detached.

"It's usually like that, isn't it." Geric says lightly. I feel a rush of relief sweep through me as I realise that he is not going to question me. Already I am starting to regret having told him anything.

Or maybe I am relieved?

"Yes," I reply, "yes it is."  
"I'm sorry." Geric says simply, getting to his feet gracefully and moving to stand next to me. I smile up at him quietly.

"It's not your fault – how can it be?"

The question hung unanswered in the cold, air, neither of us expecting an answer. I stare up at Geric unabashedly and he looks down at me with something I have never seen before – not directed at me anyway. I puzzle over it for a minute, then as his fingers brush my cheek, I give up. It doesn't matter anyway.

"Are you alright?" He asks me, concern obvious in his eyes.

"Yes …" I whisper. His warm breath is brushing against my face and his nearness makes me nervous.

"Geric?" A soft, quiet voice calls. Geric's eyes linger on my face for a moment, then he turns around.

"Hello, Elisa." He greets the girl that stands there. She is young and pretty with a clear, honest face.

"I'm sorry to interrupt…" - here she glances almost apologetically at me – "… but Princess Melissa is asking for you."

Geric winces oh-so-slightly and nods.

"Alright then." He winks at me. "I'll see you around."

I don't like winks. They mean BAD things.

-------------------

"Didn't you have a fantastic time at the ball?" Wendy gushes from the side of the ring as I ride Demon. "Damien is a fantastic dancer."

"Yes … I saw." Ladidah… how much is there to discuss about a ball anyway? Too much. Far too much.

"I didn't see you." Wendy sounds puzzled now. "Where did you go?"

To the night sky and baack again …

"Oh I was there – you just didn't see me. You see," I deadpanned, "I have the talent to make myself invisible."

"Huh?"

Now, let me get this straight. Wendy normally isn't dumb or slow. But today, her endorphin-addled brain seems to have confused her slightly. If this is what love makes people do … well … count me O-U-T.

"Never mind …" I roll my eyes, urging Demon to a canter … flying change … the other lead … woo!

"Did you see Princess Melissa?" Wendy dismisses my lack of interest. "She was so beautiful."

"Yes, I saw her. She was very …" depthlessly "…beautiful." Is depthlessly even a word? Ah … scrap that. I meant shallowly. Which is a word. Or at least should be, from the number of times I've used it on court ladies.

"Oh look!" Wendy exclaims, attention suddenly diverted. "It's …"

Geric.

I quickly turn away from Wendy before she can finish her sentence and canter towards Geric. Hey, anything is better than listening to her bubble. She's like a bottle of champagne today – full of bubbles.

I never liked alcohol much.

But I did like Wendy. Oh, drat love to hell and back again.

"Afternoon, milady." His voice is controlled and polite.

"Hi Geric." I greet him. He is on a magnificent dappled stallion today, its mane tossing in the wind. I smile softly to myself as I watch it, and reach up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Shall we ride?" Geric enquires, eyes fixed on a spot just above my shoulder. I nod eagerly and signal Demon to trot, lengthening his stride easily.

"I'll race you!" I grin, urging Demon into a canter, then a gallop, leaving Geric, Wendy and everything that confuses me behind.

I finally slow done when I reach a little creek on the edge of the stable's property. Hesitating a little, I glance back at Geric who is so far behind.

"What are you running from?" He asks, eyebrows raised.

"You, slowpoke!" I raise an eyebrow back at him. Ha, I can raise one eyebrow – I'm better than yooouuu!

No I most certainly am not immature!

He only shakes his head and grins.

"Shall we continue then?" Geric asks.

"I don't know who this land belongs to. We could be trespassing." I reply doubtfully. But then again … I am feeling rather … recalcitrant today.

"Let's just go anyway." Geric suggests determinedly, voicing my thoughts. I grin back at him. Yay! I'm probably breaking the law!

Why am I so happy about that?

Geric's horse starts trotting and I follow on Demon.

I'm so happy … oh so happy … oh shut up.

"You look tired." Geric's voice cuts through the substance – or lack thereof – of my thoughts. "Did you stay at the ball long?"

I shake my head, trying to stifle a yawn.

Yawn.

Whoops.

"Did you?" I ask him back. The easiest way to deflect a question is to ask one in return. Or maybe the expression was 'the best form of defence is attack'. But that doesn't always work, does it?

It had better work now. Or else.

Geric looks uncomfortable.

"Yes. Where did you go?"

Okay, that tactic obviously doesn't work when two people are using it against each other.

"Home. I got tired. When did you go home?"

"I lost track of the time."

We draw to a halt, both unwilling to stop the flow of questions. I dismount and lead Demon over to the creek for a drink.

"How's Princess Melissa?" I ask casually. Geric's head jerks up and his mouth twists into a crooked grin.

"She's going home today." He tells me wryly. "I think she was offended when I didn't pay her much attention yesterday. But it's okay, because she flirted a bit with my cousin and now he's enamoured with her. Good thing she didn't waste the evening."

I frown suspiciously.

"She's going home … today?" Why? Why so quickly? Geric nods – affirmative – and I look up at him. He seems freer somehow – more carefree. I scrutinise his face, frowning and wondering.

"Please stop doing that." Geric murmurs. Suddenly I realise how close to him I am.

"Doing … what?" I frown harder. What is that in his eyes? Maybe it will tell me what's different about him.

"Looking as though everyone expects so much of you." He answers.

"I can't help it." I say, relaxing my expression a fraction – just because it's impossible to keep it after he asked me not to.

"That's better." He smiles.

And then he kisses me.

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**A/N: **I'm on HOLIDAYS! D I'm so sorry for taking so long to get this up, guys, and I'm sorry it's short too… But thank you all so much for reviewing … and I bet you hate me now. I'm so so so so so so sorry guys … please forgive me? –downtrodden puppy look-


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own fairytales  
****Claimer: I do own this story!  
Song I'm currently listening to: Drops of Jupiter by Train. Sorry, that was random. Ooh, look, it's changed! It's When You Say Nothing At All by Ronan Keating now. ) **

**Chapter 10 **

It's sometime before I realise that my eyes are closed and my arms are around his neck. And when I realise that, I can't just _ignore_ it, can I? Of course not. Although his arms _are _around my waist, and he makes me want not to think … but …

I jerk away and out of his embrace, and stand, a few metres away, glaring at him. Whoops, was I _glaring_? Better change that …

"I'm … I'm sorry," Geric stutters, looking about as shell-shocked as I feel. His loss of composure is so very amusing and pleasing … considering this is the smooth guy who never lets on what he is feeling … wait. Am I talking … thinking … about the same Geric that I know?

I _think_ so.

"Stop thinking," Geric says suddenly, and I jump. How is he reading my thoughts? Hang on, he's _reading my thoughts?_ Calm down, don't panic, calm down …

_Aiyeeeeeee!_

Oh, the advantages of metaphorical thinking space.

"I'm not thinking," I defend myself valiantly. "I'm merely … pondering." Isn't pondering a synonym for thinking? I wonder briefly, making a mental note to dive for a thesaurus when I'm back at the stable. Or maybe asking Wendy, whichever would be more helpful. Then, remembering Wendy's love-stricken state, I decide against it.

"Isn't pondering a synonym for thinking?" Geric asks. Oh wait _right there_. This is _creepy!_

I clap my hands over my ears and spin around wildly, humming loudly. The unfortunate meeting of my forehead and a tree trunk stops me. The tree trunk wins. Drat it.

"_What _are you doing?" Geric asks, concern evident in his voice.

"Trying to stop you from reading my mind," I say meekly. He laughs and rolls his eyes, and I swoon. No I don't! I _don't _swoon! I can't swoon!

"What?" he asks, and I am about to go into another panic about him reading my mind again, before I realise that I said that last bit aloud. Phew.

"Nuffink," I grin maniacally. The concern written on his face deepens into worry. He places a hand on my forehead and frowns.

"Follow my finger with your eyes," he commands me, moving his finger in and out of my field of vision. I twist my head to follow it. Hang on. Why?

I stop.

"Why?" I ask curiously. Geric rolls his eyes.

"Because you seem dazed. Maybe you did something to yourself when you hit that tree," he replies. "Although you _were _admittedly strange before you hit that tree," he adds, just loud enough for me to hear him.

"Hey!" I reach up and swat him. "I resent that! Resent that … resemble that … eh."

He laughs again, then grows serious.

"I never imagined that that was what you would say after …" he trails off.

I grin. "I doubt you can imagine anything I'd say, anytime."

He nods, acknowledging my point, but doesn't answer. Placing his hand on my cheek gently, he smiles.

"You are …"

"Please don't say unpredictable," I roll my eyes. "It's so overused."

Geric laughs again. "It is. But clichés are clichés for a reason, aren't they?" he comments, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. "They're clichés because they mean the same thing to so many people. Which means they are perfectly legitimate forms of expressions."

I lace my fingers with his. "I disagree, you know," I reply. "Clichés happen because people are too unoriginal to come up with their own ideas or _forms of expression_."

Geric places his arm around my shoulders and hugs me close. "Isn't there a limit to how many different ways you can put the same idea?" he asks, playing with my fingers. I shrug, smiling.

"I don't know." And right now, I don't care. I really don't. I don't care that my sister just left the country abruptly, and that I'm in hiding. I don't care that I'm engaged to some random guy that I don't really like and don't even know …

I'm engaged.

I'm engaged!

But what does it matter? I don't even like the guy I'm engaged to – heck, I don't even _know _him! And I have no plans to go back – I don't want to go anywhere. But … what if I have to? Am I dishonouring my family's promise?

Somehow Geric senses my … internal tumult. Yay, cliché! See what you've done to me, Geric?

"What's wrong?" he asks, and somehow bursts my bubble.

Pop!

Couldn't resist.

"I … I …" I can't get a single sentence out! Ergh! "I don't think this is going to work out, Geric," I tell him, standing up. He looks at me, and somehow I think I'm bursting his self-created bubble too.

Pop!

Couldn't resist.

Déjà vu!

"I'm engaged," I blurt out, trying to justify my harsh words. "To some guy … a landlord … in my home village. My parents … betrothed me to him … when I turn … eighteen." It's the closest to the truth I can give him, without … giving him the truth.

"Yes," he says woodenly. "I guess you're right."

I nod, trying to tear my gaze away from his.

"I've got someone too," Geric continues, looking at me … no, through me. "I … forgot."

I wince, looking away.

"I'm sorry, Geric, I didn't mean …" To fall for you? To … what? "… to lead you on."

"So am I," his voice is soft, regretful.

I close my eyes and stand on my toes to press a kiss to his lips. When I pull away, I dare not look at his face.

"Goodbye, Geric," I say quietly. Since when have I gotten _quiet_?

"Goodbye."

_Goodbye. _

And as I back away and hop on my horse, the rain does _not _come down because this is _not _some cheesy romantic novel where we'll come to our senses and run back into each other's arms and say things like 'who cares about our families.' I've grown out of the delusion that love overcomes all boundaries, because I don't even know if I love Geric. And I know that no matter how far I've run, I cannot escape. I'm going to _have _to go back some day.

I ride Demon in silence – not at a full paced gallop, but at a leisurely trot that leaves me time for thought. I don't want to go back to the stable anymore – not even for the thesaurus. Glancing around, I see that I am almost certainly trespassing on private land, and somehow I cannot bring myself to care any longer. COME AND GET ME GUARDS.

Huh.

I'm not going to get depressed over a stupid thing like infatuation. Because that's so overdone and clichéd and hackneyed and ERGH.

At least it's not raining yet. That's something, right?

I urge Demon into a canter, then a gallop. Thought is something I don't really want to bother myself with at the moment – if ever. Recklessly, I ride past the farmhouse, hearing a muffled "Hey!" from behind a door or a window. I don't care!

The wind rushing past my ears, I find myself in a vaguely familiar field. I dismount quickly and lean against Demon tiredly.

"It's all over then," I tell him. His ears prick backwards and he listens. "It's all over."

Demon lets out a sharp whinny, and I whirl around to see the green uniforms of the Secret Guards coming towards me.

"Don't move, Princess," one says, and my eyes flick instinctively to the front of his uniform where a red Captain's badge.

I haven't got a chance.

"I'm not going to," I say boldly, my voice slipping into an formal, authoritative tone, that I wasn't aware that I possessed.

"Good."

One of them takes Demon's reins, and the others frogmarch me through the fields.

"That was a stupid thing to do, Princess," the Captain tells me.

I glare at him. "What was?"

His gaze doesn't soften, but I can tell that under all that training, he's feeling awfully sorry for me.

"Running away."

I turn away, suddenly upset.

"I know."

They put me into a carriage and lock the door. As the Captain is about to leave, I call to him.

"Does Wendy know where I'm going?" I blurt out. He looks at me, confused.

"Who's Wendy?"

I look down at my fingers. "Stable girl."

He pauses. "No. Do you want me to tell her?"

The word 'yes' is on my lips, but then I realise that it would mean that she would have to know about me … and that would get out to Cameron and Damien and … Geric.

"No. Thanks."

And the carriage starts moving, and I close my eyes. It's going to be a long journey.

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**A/N: **Hey guys. I'm back. And I'm really tired. ) I'm sorry for the long wait … I rewrote this chapter lots and lots of times, and it didn't work. I think it's working now though. I'm really sorry – I've been really lax with updates and fanfiction in general. Senior school is more work than it's worth. No, I don't mean that.

As an aside, I've gotten obsessed with House. )

Once again, I'm sorry for being a horrible fanfiction author. Please forgive me? -pleading look-

Sardine.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** disclaimed.

**Chapter 11 **

I have drifted into a uneasy slumber, but I can still feel the horses' hooves clip-clopping up and down the dirt tracks of the country … or are they the cobbled streets of the city? I really can't tell anymore, and while normally it would drive me insane, I really don't care anymore. I really don't care about anything anymore. I keep my eyes tightly shut and my future spreads out in front me – distant and bleak. Superimposed over all my memories and thoughts is that one picture of the Crown Prince of Kilmere at the ball, forehead lined with worries and eyes darting wistfully to the dance floor. Tired, exhausted eyes.

Will that be what I look like after a year of marriage?

"_Don't be ridiculous,"_ I can almost hear my mother reprimand me. I haven't heard my mother's voice in so long … _"Girls were made to be wed off. That is our lot in life." _I can see her again, looking at my reflection in her full length mirror as she dresses for the ball. There is a weary expression in her eyes that I cannot ignore.

Was that my mother's only fault, perhaps? To believe, as she was told, that all she could ever do was marry well? She has never been a mother to me, but perhaps that is because she never had a real mother either. Perhaps she tried to get close to me, but I pushed her away, because I knew not what she was doing.

Perhaps.

"_I just want to love and live with all my heart!" _Wendy's voice floats through my head, echoing some romance novel that she has no doubt read and cherished. Ah, Wendy, so you will, I think to myself. She has more passion and more timidity that anyone I know, and she is such a contrary mix of each. She will be happy, and even if she isn't she will convince herself that she is happy. As I must also learn to do. I put Wendy away, put her out of my mind, out of my heart. I will never see her again.

Unbidden, an image of Melissa drifts into my mind's eye, and a memory unfolds – one that I had forgotten until now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------It has been raining and the grounds are fresh with dew and rain and something else I cannot name. I run through the grass, skirts trailing in the mud, laughing. My hair streams out in two untidy braids behind me, and my dress billows out. Gleefully, I wade through the puddles of mud that line the floor, trailing the ends of my dress carelessly.

"_Jasmine, stop that!" Melissa's voice rings out from what seems like nowhere. I glance around eagerly, squinting through the blurry mess of hedges, mud and rain to see my sister._

"_Where are you?" I call back. _

"_By the fountain," she replies impatiently, and I hurry towards her. She has her back to me now, and her fingers trail delicately in the water. Why aren't the fish biting her? They always bite me – that's not fair! _

"_You're getting your dress wet," I warn her haughtily, folding my arms. Melissa turns to face me, perfect eyebrows raised. _

"_Jasmine, it's raining. Rain _is _wet." _

_Well … _

"_My point still stands," I reply, sticking my nose in the air. "You're getting your dress wet. You don't get your dresses wet. Ever. Except when the maid washes them, of course."_

_She sighs, rolling her eyes at me. Squinting, I wonder if I can see the remnants of tears on her cheeks, or if I'm imagining things. _

"_What's wrong?" I ask, going for the empathetic approach. _

"_Nothing," she says, blinking furiously. "It's just that …" Whirling around, she glares at me. "Don't you ever hate being you, Jasmine?" she almost snarls, blonde hair clinging to the side of her face in tendrils. _

_I think about the question for a moment longer than I need to, trying to make her feel better about my answer. "No." _

"_Urgh!" she groans, turning around again._

_I guess it didn't work._

"_I'm going back up to the castle," Melissa says, her eyes distant. "I'll have to dry myself off. You should too."_

"_Why?" I ask, with genuine curiosity. "I'm already wet – why do I need to be dry?" _

_She doesn't deign to answer, turning away instead and disappearing into the maze of hedges behind us as I trail _my _hand through the water._

_Ouch. Stupid fish. _

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_

"Is everything alright, Princess?" the Captain asks me, opening the carriage door. I glance up at him, suddenly acutely conscious of what a sight I must look.

"Yes," I say without conviction. He bites his lip, and it's obvious that he doesn't believe me – not that that was my intention anyway.

"I know this isn't my place, ma'am …" the Captain says, hesitating. I smile wanly.

"Sir, I've run away from my duty and masqueraded as a stable girl for weeks. I doubt any abandonment of propriety on your part is going to affect my view of you or the world," I tell him directly, holding his gaze for a long moment. It frightens me how easily I seem to be able to switch into the role of the Princess – so much easier than ever before.

The Captain smiles benevolently, shrugging lightly. "Your parents really do want the best for you," he tells me quietly. "They were distraught when you left."

"Distraught because I had left, or distraught because their chances of reinforcing ties with their neighbours had disappeared?" I ask in an acidic tone. The Captain looks away, and I shake my head. "Rhetoric question, Sir. You don't have to answer that."

He smiles uncertainly. "We're just entering the city now, Princess," he tells me, quickly steering the subject into safer zones. "We'll reach the castle in a few moments. Your parents will want to see you."

I nod faintly, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of the horses' trot lull me into a dreamless sleep.

When I next open my eyes, the Captain is there again, and I'm on my feet before I know it. He gives me a quick glance and offers me his hand. Looking up at him, I thank him silently, realising for the first time how blue his eyes are. Maybe I'll turn into my sister with time. He nods, acknowledging my thanks, and we step down.

The light is blinding at first, and I blink to register my surroundings. We are standing on the front steps of the castle, where crowds used to gather to watch us – the Royals – leave the castle. There are no crowds this time – no one wants to watch a disgraced princess return home, and I'm secretly glad for it, and not the slightest bit surprised. What I _am _surprised about, is a small figure at the top of the stairs, arm resting delicately on the balustrade as she descends elegantly.

It's Melissa.

I don't make a single move, opting instead to stand by the Captain as my sister walks towards me. It's the first time I've been face to face with her for such a long time. Her hair isn't piled up fashionably this time – it's in a single braid down her back, and her face is devoid of all makeup. Her dress is simple and monochromatic, and the expression on her face breaks my heart.

"Jasmine?" she whispers, and I nod in reply, my throat suddenly too dry.

"Hi," I croak, and suddenly we are hugging, because no matter how much we've both changed, we're still sisters and we should still acknowledge that somehow, right?

I pull back, looking at her, searching for the person I once knew, and I have to admit that I do see a lot more of her than I used to. Maybe it's because I'm looking for her, or maybe … maybe she just is.

"Mother wants to see you," she says quietly, her eyes wide and appraising as well. Maybe she's looking for the memory of me too.

I nod.

"Now?" I ask.

"Now," she confirms.

"Dressed like this?" I joke, and her mouth twists up in a wry half-grin. There's something wrong with her – I just don't know what. And apparently I don't have the time now to discover what.

"Well, who knows?" she says flippantly, though I can hear bitterness ringing in her voice. "Maybe you'll start a trend. Straw-strewn hair, I like it."

I reach up to brush my hair self-consciously. "I do not have straw in my hair!"

Melissa smiles. "You should. It'd go with your image."

Next to me, the Captain coughs pointedly. "Princesses, we can't keep your parents waiting." I nod, glancing back at the guards that line the street now, raising my head to acknowledge them.

"Shall we go then?" I ask, and he nods, all traces of mirth and humanity vanishing from his face. It's like looking at a stone table – nothing will crack it.

Except maybe another stone … hm …. Food for thought.

Requires a mind with teeth. Or not.

As the Captain and I tread through the carpeted hallways, my feet tracing a well-rehearsed pattern on the floor, Melissa melts away into one of the doors, and I realise that I have never known my sister, have never tried to know my sister, and possibly may never know my sister. It's a sorry state of affairs, but only to be expected when our family is as ruined as ours is. We have never been a family, and we have never attempted to be one. At the ball, I could tell that my fiancé's family was so tightly-knitted in a way that I've never experienced, and I suppose it wouldn't be too bad to be a part of that.

The Captain relinquishes my hand, and I realised that we're in front of a big, brown door.

"Good luck," he says, the stone exterior melting for half a second. I nod grimly and push the door open.

It's like a memory – it's exactly the same as the last time I was here. My parents seated at the other end of the room, the servants lining the halls … the only thing that's changed is me. I'm different.

Or am I?

Striding down the carpet confidently, I kneel before my parents.

"Father. Mother," I acknowledge them, and wait for the storm of fury to wash over me.

My expectations are not unfounded. As my parents rage on and on about my irresponsibility – not bothering to send the servants away, revelling instead in the humiliation of their daughter – I tune out. I know better than to apologise, because for one, I'm not sorry, and for two, forgiveness was too foreign a word for my parents to comprehend.

I wonder when I started viewing my family in such clinical terms.

Tuning back in, my parents seem to have run out of steam. I look up at them, and secretly pity them – two unhappy people forced to be unhappy together.

However, it becomes hard to feel sorry for them when I hear their next words:

"You will marry the Crown Prince by the end of this week, whether we have to shackle you to your chair or not."

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**A/N: **Don't shoot! –holds hands up to protect self- I've taken ever so long to update, and I'll probably take ever so long to update again, and I'm so so sorry, if that means anything. On the up side, this story is nearly finished, so you won't have to put up with my sporadic updates for much longer, unless I decide to do a sequel, which at this stage doesn't seem likely- at least not until I finish all my other stories. Everything's getting really intense, and I'm so scared about my future (and I don't know what to dooo … 'Talk' – Coldplay).

On a more authory note (as opposed to a grovelly note), I know this chapter's style is a little different from what we've been used to in the past chapters – a little darker, I guess. I've tried to lighten it up to make it more consistent, but also maintained the contrasts. Tell me if it worked or not.

Readers, if you still exist for this story, thank you so much for your support, and please don't give up on me now. Do drop me a line and tell me how you think everything's going and flame me for my inadequacies for all you like – I don't mind. I just want to hear from you.

Cheers,

Sardine.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **Disclaimed.

**Chapter 12**

In the end they don't have to shackle me to my chair at all. For some bizarre, inane reason, I don't feel like putting up a fight anymore. Maybe it's because I know – now more than ever – that no matter how hard I try, I cannot escape from my family – I cannot escape from who I am. And I don't want to either. I think of Wendy and all the stable hands and see how they idolised the royal family, and how they longed to escape from their lot in life, and I know that by becoming their queen – as I will eventually – I can make use of that fact and take advantage of it. My husband may not be handsome or even treat me with kindness, but his people seem to like him, and really, isn't that the greater good? Literally?

Satisfied that I will not run away, or even attempt to defend myself, my parents leave me alone for most of the time, although they do take great care to position guards around the places where I frequent. In fact, Janine, my handmaiden, informs me that there are practically armies of guards around the palace walls. Of course, she's much given to exaggeration, so I discount that slightly. Only slightly, of course, because I know my warped family is extremely paranoid. My parents are good rulers though. They are willing to sacrifice everything they have for the good of the country – including their daughter, it would seem – just so their people can have peace. Of course, I don't delude myself that they actually care about the people – probably more about the power. If there are no people to rule, then there's no power, right?

But even that epiphany can't bring me to summon up any great optimism for my situation. Instead, I drift around the palace gardens, trying to lose myself in the wilderness, or even send myself mad, but nothing works. I have far too huge a grip on reality to let go – or even to want to let go. And to my surprise, Melissa often joins me.

"It's like a giant fist around your life that's closing in, isn't it?" she tells me quietly, one gloomy afternoon as the clouds linger overhead, threatening to release a deluge upon us. "I feel it … you feel it too."

I nod, unwilling to break the companionable silence that surrounds us.

"I tried to escape from it," Melissa continues, regardless. "I tried to be like the other court ladies – frivolous and superficial – but I couldn't break free. Maybe I really am frivolous and superficial, after all – I don't know." I look at her. Her hair is perfectly sculpted and her face pristine, but there is a strange light shining in her eyes, and the nails on her hands are chewed and bitten.

"I tried to escape too," I reply reluctantly. "It didn't work for me. I don't think people like us are made for freedom. What would we do with it anyway?"

Melissa smiles bitterly. "Ironic, isn't it?" she comments, playing with the long sleeve of her dress. "People all over the city would give anything to be us, and we'd give anything to be them."

"We want what we cannot have," I quoted, twisting a blade of grass around my fingers. "And we cannot have what we want."

She nods, a tiny sigh escaping her lips. In the stillness of the garden, that small sound echoes, like the most fragile noise ever. I look away, gazing into the distance where I can see a couple of guards exercising their horses. _Demon_, a little voice whispers to me, and I flinch. I haven't been allowed to ride Demon since … since I ran away. Since I last saw Wendy. Since I last saw Geric.

Since.

Turning back to Melissa, I see that she is watching me, a little perplexed frown on her face. I shrug embarrassedly and look down at my calloused hands.

"You're lucky," she says sombrely. "At least you know what your future will be like."

I laugh – a harsh gasp of mirth. "Yes, aren't I lucky?" I reply sarcastically.

This time it's her turn to shrug. "Dave will be king eventually, and our parents won't force him to do anything for fear of him abdicating. You're going to be queen of Kilmere eventually. It's only me left, and I'm terrified that Mother and Father will force me to stay with them – under their control – my entire life."

I search for words of comfort, but can't find any, so instead, I change the subject. "Where's Dave?" I ask innocuously, avoiding her hurt gaze.

"Mother and Father have forbidden you to see him before your wedding," Melissa replies, and a deathly silence falls. My upcoming wedding has been a strictly taboo subject between us, and to hear it being brought up now is a shock. Denial is a very powerful thing, and it's always useful when you don't want to believe something has happened. Or in my case, will happen.

"What, do they think I'll be a negative influence on him?" I snark back half-heartedly.

Melissa nods. "Something like that."

"I'd have thought that Dave wouldn't care," I say hesitantly, raising my gaze to meet Melissa's.

"He mightn't," she replies thoughtfully. "But he doesn't even know you're back. Not many people do – not that many people outside the castle knew that you were away in the first place."

I nod slowly, everything suddenly making beautiful sense. Huh – I just called sense beautiful. I never thought I'd see the day. Oh the humiliation – the utter humiliation!

I open my mouth to say something, but a maid appears instead, as if I'd conjured her up by dropping my jaw. I should try that more often …

"Excuse me, your Highnesses," she says timorously. "But the dressmaker is in attendance and they're all looking for you."

I avoid Melissa's pitying glance, and rise to my feet. "Where is she?" I ask wearily.

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The dress is poofy and scratchy and I immediately decide I don't like it. Glancing at Melissa imploringly, I shake my head slowly.

"I don't like it," I say, stating what seems to be the obvious. _And pigs don't fly … _

The dressmaker sighs. "It doesn't sit right, does it?" she says, annoyed. What the heck does 'sitting right have to do with anything?? I don't like it!!! It's poofy and scratchy and makes me look like a plum!

If plums were white.

"Can I have something simpler?" I ask tentatively. Much as I hate this contract of matrimony, I refuse to attend my wedding looking like a mouldy piece of fruit.

The dressmaker looks affronted for a second, then frowns thoughtfully. "Simpler …"

The upshot of me being whiny and trying to delay my wedding as soon as possible is that I end up with a fairly simple dress and knowledge that my fiancé is coming in two days. Two days isn't nearly enough for me to plan my convenient death! Joke, of course – honestly, my subconscious is far too uptight!

I still don't see Dave, and gradually, my visits from Melissa peter out as well. I should have known our camaraderie was too easy to last. But even in my moments of bitterness, I still can't help remembering her scared face, and somehow my memory reduces her image to that of a frightened child, and it's terrifying how apt that looks. Fortunately for me, I don't see my parents anymore, and while I know that they're somewhere in the background, planning my wedding, it's so easy to forget that they exist.

More often than not, I find myself cursing my mind for remembering everything I don't want to remember, and forgetting everything I do. My dreams aren't haunted by images of my friends, because that would be insanely clichéd, but I do spend more time than I should thinking about them. I know that I'm slipping into an unhealthy melancholy – I can see it in Janine's eyes – and I desperately want to pull myself out of this Charybdis of emotion, but I cannot. In that way, I welcome the wedding, so that I can get over myself, and start living again.

Days pass, and on the second day since my dress-fitting, I am suddenly confined to my room. Janine offers no explanation, but the fanfares and the parades that I can see from my window tells me everything I need to know.

He's here.

Again, my treacherous memory reconstructs an image of a wrinkled old man, and superimposes it onto the worn, tired face of the Crown Prince, and trying to take advantage of it, I add a moustache and a beard to my mental picture, snorting slightly at the result. Janine looks at me worriedly, and I smile half-heartedly.

"I'm bored, Janine," I explain. "I have to amuse myself in some way."

She bobs a little curtsey and bows her head.

"When's my wedding, Janine?" I ask to occupy my mind. I only know it's soon – I don't actually know when. Perhaps they're looking for that element of surprise – maybe I look better surprised, or my value increases or something equally ridiculous.

"I'm not allowed to tell you, ma'am," she replies reluctantly, bobbing yet another curtsey. Any more of that and she'll start looking like a little doll with a nodding head to my boredom-addled mind.

"Have you seen my fiancé?" I ask without interest, my gaze averted from her face, so as to avoid the sympathy that's sure to be prominent on her face.

"Yes, ma'am. He's very handsome," she replies, her voice quavering the slightest bit.

"Ha. Bet they told you to tell me that," I say feebly, staring out the window at the vast expanse of land.

"It isn't proper for a lady to gamble, ma'am," Janine tells me reprovingly.

"A lady isn't allowed to lots of things that they should be, Janine. Pick their own husband for one," I tell her uninterestedly. "A lady also isn't allowed to keep secrets either, but you're doing so, so let's just forget about what a lady's supposed to do, alright?"

"Yes ma'am," comes Janine's unsatisfying reply, and from the shadow cast onto the window ledge, I can tell that she's curtseying again.

"When am I going to see my fiancé, Janine?" I continue to pester her, for want of something better to do.

"When he lifts your veil, ma'am," Janine says patiently, and I whirl around to face her with an indignant yelp.

"Wait, so the first time I see him will be when I marry him?" I protest. "That's not fair! Although … although it may turn out to be a good thing, really …"

She doesn't answer this time, and I don't press her any longer, opting instead to watch her watch the clock above my head. Judging by her tense expression, something's about to happen anytime now … something I most probably won't like …

The clock strikes three.

"Ma'am, I believe your parents want to see you, now," Janine breaks the silence. "Your mother, in any case."

Exactly on cue, the door opens, and my mother strides in purposefully. I recoil instinctively – this is the first time I've seen her out of the throne room for yonks, and it's rather scary – like seeing a wild tiger breaking out of its natural habitat. Springing to my feet, I bob a curtsey, realising how much like Janine I'm acting. Straightening my back hesitantly, I watch her expression carefully.

"Jasmine," she says with authority. "Do hurry along. We have to get you ready for your wedding now."

_Now. _

Well at least I'll get it over and done with quickly.

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**A/N: **Heavens, what's this?? A speedy update?? Am I hallucinating??? Is this all a Machiavellian conspiracy against me? Or is it actually what it seems: an update? -faints-

Hello all, as you can guess, I can't believe I'm updating so quickly, and neither will you, probably. But, inspired by the overwhelming support yesterday, I've decided that I had to finish this chapter quickly. Don't hold your breath for the next one, but I'll try to be faster with updates again.

Thank you to everyone for your lovely reviews – sends love out – I appreciated every single one.

Cheers,

Sardine.

P.S. Thank you ever so much for the platter of guilt, **Scoutcraft PIratess. **- makes scrunched up face.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Disclaimed

A/N: Um, yeah. It's been a while. My USB ate the bits of the chapter that I had, and then exams got in the way – mid-year exams are evil and should be abolished. I probably could have gotten this done sooner though, but … yeah, I'm sorry. Thanks to everyone for sticking with me though – this is nearly done.

On a different note: HARRY POTTER IS OUT!!

Chapter 13

My footsteps are silent on the padded crimson carpet as Janine guides me through the corridors. The thick veil conceals my face, and I cannot see a thing through it. The corridors are empty – _everyone's at the wedding _– and the obscuration of all my senses makes me feel like a spectre. Like a ghost.

This isn't me, I think dully as I turn around another corner. I should be screaming, yelling and threatening to run away from everything – _that's_ what I'd do, isn't it? Next to me, I can feel my mother's steady breathing as she strides down the corridor at my side. From her presence, I know there is a long train of guards marching behind me, but I can't hear them. Craning my neck sideways in a futile effort to see, I exhale slightly.

"Stop it," Mother's voice jerks me back. I murmur an apology that I know will be lost before it reaches her. Is this what this veil represents? The stifling of overactive brides so that they become the perfect queen? Is this what happened to Mother?

Closing my eyes – not that it makes much difference – I remember a painting in the family portrait gallery. There were three little girls and they all looked so happy. The plaque beside it is engraved with the nondescript words _Queen Elisabeth and her cousins._ Queen Elisabeth is my mother and I know her. But who was Elisabeth and where has she gone?

Janine's fingers tighten around my arm, and I stifle a squeak of surprise.

"You're eager to enter the church, aren't you, Jasmine," my mother remarks sarcastically, as I halt abruptly. I hold my tongue – and my thoughts – as Mother exchanges a couple of quick sentences with the guard at the church door. _This isn't me_ echoes in my head again.

But then again, what did being me entail? I ran away, and for a lovely period I could delude myself into thinking that everything would be fine – that I would be able to escape who I was. It didn't last long – I never thought it would. And now, now that there's no way out, perhaps it's time for me to use my position to make a difference somehow, somewhere.

Maybe it's time for me to grow up.

The door in front of me creaks open, and as the organ music starts to play, I don't feel so much like a ghost anymore. The scraping of pews on the cold stone fills the church and, in the pause before I start walking down the aisle, I wonder how many of the citizens of my city are crouched in the back of the church.

No. Not my city anymore. I will be a daughter of Kilmere now.

As Janine relinquishes my arm, she whispers to me, "Good luck, ma'am. You look beautiful!"

_That's because you can't see my face, Janine._

A new hand in mine guides my arm to link with his – it's my father. I hear him take a deep breath in, as though about to say something to me, but then he expels it. There isn't much left to say anyway. As we begin our long walk down the aisle, I wonder vaguely how long the organist can _play _for. Surely he or she is about to run out of organ music soon?

The stone floor is bare, and I can hear the click of my heels on its uneven surface. I chew my lip thoughtfully, and marvel at the fact that I haven't fallen over yet. There must be a large window at the end of the church that I'm walking towards, because some of the light is penetrating my veil. I can vaguely make out dim silhouettes of people at the other end of the church. One of those figures must be my fiancé, although there's not much information there to make any conclusions about him. At the very least, I know that he is vaguely human-shaped and is a reasonable human height.

Human-shaped and of a human height. Not a bad basis for a relationship, really.

The church is completely silent as the organ player gathers momentum, striking the chords overzealously. I wince along with the rest of the church as he hits a particularly grating chord. I'd better get up the front quickly so that he can stop. And I do this for king and country! And for the greater good!

… which here means for the sake of our eardrums.

It's boring not being able to see, you know.

My father clutches my arm in a gesture distinctly reminiscent of Janine.

"Steps," he hisses, and as I place my feet cautiously on each step, I can't help reflecting that this would be a very successful anarchy if someone wasn't guiding me and if I were the monarch. A lot of 'ifs', really.

As I stand in front of the shadowy priestly figure, I hold my hand out and drop it into the grip of my fiancé. His hand is calloused and warm; his fingers close around mine in a sure grip.

My father's presence drops away abruptly and the priest's voice resonates through the church, thin, reedy, but painfully loud.

"Please be seated," he says, and as the scraping of pews fill the church once more, the organ stops.

"Finally," I breathe in mock-relief, and hear an answering snort beside me.

Sense of humour – check. That's three off my list –

Since _when _did I have a list?!

Silence fills the church once again, and my flippant mood drops away abruptly. The priest starts speaking, but his perfunctory words about royalty are lost in a blur to me. All I'm aware of is the steady beating of my heart and my fiancé's hand in mine. The priest is saying something about love, and perhaps he knows what that is, but how much does he know of marriage? He's never been married – I don't know what to do, what am I going to do?

Or more specifically, what are _we _going to do?

I chance a glance sideways at the place where my betrothed stands, wondering vaguely what he's thinking. There is no perceptible tension emanating from beside me, just a relaxed air. Perhaps he's done this so many times before that it no longer means anything to him. At least he knows how to make a marriage last, I suppose.

By taking a second wife? Well, that's obviously not an option for me …

With a jolt, I realise that the priest has stopped talking and that I am being turned to face my betrothed.

"Here, in the presence of the citizens of both kingdoms, and with the blessing of the monarchies, I present you with the heir of Kilmere and his consort!"

It is done. I am wed.

My husband drops my hand, and slowly lifts my veil. I squint in the bright sunlight, trying to shield my eyes. The man in front me is nothing but a dark shadow in front of the light as he leans. I close my eyes as our lips touch politely for a split second. The congregation assembled breaks into applause and I leave my eyes closed for a moment, trying to pretend that this is nothing – this is nothing!

He pulls away, and there is a moment where the crowd is clapping, and I'm standing there daftly, eyes closed.

"_Jasper?_"

My eyes fly open – I know that voice!

"_Geric?_"

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	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Five years on, I'm pretty sure you guys know the drill.

Chapter 14

We stare at each other, and instinctively, my hands ball up into fists. I really _really_ want to hit him, because he's not who I expected and he's not _old_, and, well, I thought he would be. I mean. It's not like I wanted him to be, because I'm not really into necrophilia or bigamy or anything like that, but _he's not who I was expecting._

I'm not into cannibalism either, but I think this may be irrelevant? It's a bit hard to tell right now.

His hand closes around mine, and I flinch a little. I mean, this guy _lied_ to me. What am I supposed to do, fall into his arms, cry a little, but not enough to muss up my makeup and then get onto making out in the carriage? Is that what he expects?

"As much as you might want to hit me right now," he breathes, "I don't think that'll go down too well with the cheering masses." And I do want to hit him. I really do, and I'm not even sure why? I guess there's the tiny matter that he ilied/i about who he was, but I can't even hate him for that, because, you know what? So did I.

I don't really know what's happening to me. I feel sombre and _serious_ and I don't really understand what's going on. Even more than usual, I mean.

The crowds are still cheering and his hand is still wrapped firmly around mine, and so when he starts to walk down the aisle, I follow. _Some bride I must look like_, I think to myself, allowing a wild laugh to escape my pursed lips. I wonder what my face looks like at the moment. Where's Mother and her mirror and her declarations of my duty to my country when I need her?

I glance over to where my mother is standing, regal and poised. Her face, and Father's too, just shows relief today. I don't know what I had expected, but I guess that she's just relieved that I'm not bawling my eyes out or being dragged out by my ankles. I smirk at the image crossing my mind. Glancing down, I have to check my nails to see if they're long enough to leave scratch marks on the stone floor.

I guess that would be one way to leave my mark on this kingdom. Har har.

The aisle seems longer - if that's even possible - than when I first walked up it, and through my peripheral vision, I can see Geric waving and smiling to the assembled crowds. I stare down at my feet, my hand hanging limply beside me. It's as good as having a pet dog, this unmoving hand of mine. Shut up. I said 'almost', okay?

We're finally at the door, and Geric holds one open for me, but I push the other defiantly. If he thinks, if he thinks I'm going to fall into his arms and -

Wait. We already did this spiel. It's just. Sometimes his eyes can look so warm.

No! Stop it! There's a reason I haven't been looking at him this entire time and it would help plenty if I didn't start thinking about all the things I like - iliked/i about him too!

It's just -

It's just that, you know, he was my friend, and he kissed me, and I liked him, and a part of me is saying … well, is this really all that bad?

Hey wait. He kissed me. He kissed me when he was engaged to me! That cheating rat's poop! Yes, poop. I never pretended to have a vocabulary better than a six year old.

So engrossed am I in thinking of interesting insults for him that I don't even notice the carriage until my face comes into contact with its shiny white exterior. Oops. Oops, and, well, iow/i.

"Are you okay?" the rat's poop asks, though he even has the audacity to sound amused.

"Yes," I say sniffily. "No thanks to _you._" Gathering my tattered dignity and not even pausing to look towards - let alone wave at - the crowds that have no doubt gathered behind us, I sweep into the carriage haughtily. Once safely ensconced within its stifling confines, I allow myself a tiny grin.

What? Stop judging me. It was a perfectly good exit and exit line.

Although, it would probably have been more effective if Geric wasn't about to get into the carriage behind me, once he stops pandering to his adoring public. I bet there are millions of girls there who would absolutely love to be married to him. Too bad I'm not one of them. I will run away! Again! To the mountains this time! And live off roots and berries and other things people eat when they're running away!

Right on cue, my treacherous stomach rumbles.

Maaaaybe we should scrap this plan in favour of the one where we sit in awkward silence with Geric in this stupid carriage. Or alternatively, the one where we just wait for Geric while he tells all the girls in his kingdom how sorry he is that he's no longer single, but not to worry, in a few years he'll be looking for another wife anyway. Three cheers for bigamy!

I guess this plan is also the one where we refer to ourselves as a plural entity and sound like we have multiple personalities. Maybe if I'm declared mad this marriage will be declared null. I shake my head. This plan is insane! Heh.

Yes, I do find myself amusing, thank you!

Geric finally steps into carriage and shuts the door. I stare at my feet as the carriage wheels into motion. An awkward silence descends like a truly terrible metaphor.

"Well," he says, and I am so glad that I'm not the only one finding this awkward as all hell.

"Yes," I replied, still looking deliberately away from him. "Can I punch you now?"

He laughs - quietly, but he's still laughing. My heart pushes into my ribcage, and I gulp. Down, heart, down! "I'd prefer you didn't."

"Me too," I reply. "You might cry. And I'd be forced to comfort you."

"And we couldn't have that, could we," he says gently.

I shake my head and stare out the window at the countryside going by. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Some summer castle somewhere. My parents' wedding gift." He replies. There is a pause. "You're mad at me," Geric says. His voice seems to be coming from a distance a fair way away. _Give the man a medal_, I think. "Why?"

And at that moment, that infuriating moment when I should be yelling at him at the top of my lungs, I can't think of anything to say. Because sure, he lied to me about who he was, but then, so did I. And I was forced into this situation, sure, but I don't know - was he too? Was there someone else that he wanted to marry, did he have someone to play Wendy to his Damien? Did I just get in the way the way he got in my way? And how many times can I use 'way' in one sentence?

"I don't know," I reply honestly, my gaze still fixed out the window. "I guess … you know. This whole thing. It's not _fair_."

He hums in reply, and I can see him looking at me through his reflection in the glass. The countryside is going by so very quickly and really, I just want it to stop. Mostly so I can run away. There has to be some place somewhere where none of this is real, right?

"I don't know," he says, echoing me. "This definitely doesn't seem fair, but mainly because I don't think I deserve any of this. I don't think I've done anything good enough to deserve any of this."

My hand slips off the ledge and I half turn to look at him, still not meeting his gaze. "What - what do you mean?" Curse the tremor in my voice! Maybe I'm getting old - as old as the guy I thought I'd marry. And drat Mother and Father for not giving me the right information. Seriously. Wife to an old geezer who was married already? Who'd believe that?

Apart from me, of course.

"Well," Geric says, sliding across his seat so that he is directly in front of me. "I never thought I'd be lucky enough to be married to you."

Possibly a fly gets into my mouth while it is hanging wide open.

"I don't know if you've noticed," he continues. "But I think - I think I might be in love with you - right now more than ever - but also for the longest time."

I say the first thing that comes into my head. "Even when you thought I was Jasper, the runaway boy from Beroe?"

He laughs. "Even when I'm pouring my heart out and you're wise-cracking like … like I'm not pouring my heart out to you." Geric reaches for my hand, and even though I'm still not looking at him, my fingers curl instinctively around his. "Look at me?" he asks, his voice so quiet.

I raise my eyes up to meet his slowly, and it's - to tell you the truth - a little bit overwhelming. There is a wild happiness and something akin to vulnerability playing in his eyes, and I really just want to make it go away.

"I just never wanted to be married," I say, with as much force as I can muster. "In fact, I think this whole plan was Mother and Father's way of making sure I was as unhappy as possible."

Geric grips my hand tightly. "Maybe, Jas," he says. "But I don't know about you, but I think I'm pretty happy right now. I was supposed to be engaged to - well, to someone who wasn't you, and that was just about the unhappiest I'd been, and I went to boarding school."

"I wanted to go to boarding school," I reply faintly, but I am beginning to grin. Because, you know, it's _Geric_. It's not an old bloke and I'm not his second wife. And this thing, this being married to some foreign prince might just work out all the same. Because it's not some foreign prince, it's _Geric_, and well, if I'm honest - which I rarely am, apparently - I might just love him a little myself.

"You're not missing the point at all, are you?" he grouses good-naturedly. Quickly, he turns serious again. "I know this all was so unfair to you, Jas, and I keep getting that you really don't want to be married at all, but I don't know, do you …" He trails off, loosening his grip on my hand to gesture helplessly. I feel the loss of his hand on mine keenly.

"I don't want to be married at all," I say, reaching out for his hand. "But to you, Geric, I think I might cope with that."

He looks at me, and at his hand in mine. "Do you … are you saying?"

"Yeah," I reply casually. "I think I might love you too."

It takes a second for my words to seep into that skull of his, but suddenly I find myself encircled in his arms, and it's really not a bad place to be. And he kisses me and I close my eyes, and know that I am where I am supposed to be. Where I want to be.

"I still hate this whole being married thing, you know that right?" I murmur against his lips.

"Mmhm." He brings his hands up to my face.

"And don't expect me to start popping out little heirs before my twenty-fifth birthday."

He smiles against my lips.

"There's just so much of the world I still want to see, and I'm thinking this whole being married and a princess and all that might actually get in the way of th-"

Geric traces a finger across my lips, effectively cutting me off. He smiles again, and leans in to kiss me again. While this is probably one of the best ways of getting interrupted while making a point, I still have a point to make, so I pull away to look at him seriously. I guess some of my seriousness is undercut by the fact that I still have my arms around his neck and he still has his arms around me. At this point I should probably say something stupid like 'I could stay like this forever', except, well, I actually could. I'm probably grinning unattractively in a loonish manner, but Geric doesn't look at all appalled or disgusted. Rather, he leans his forehead against mine, and clears his throat.

"I know," he murmurs, "that there's so much out there you still want to see, and I'd never expect you to do anything you don't want to - and I would never even want to try. But you see, I don't know how I'm going to be parted from you when I just found you, so if you would have me, I would love to come along and see everything with you."

Geric and me, wandering the globe together. There are definitely worse ways to spend the next few years of my life and, at the moment, I can't really think of anything better.

Instead of responding, I pull him closer to me and kiss him, and I know, I just know, that this - all this - is going to be amazing.

Turns out riding into the sunset isn't such a bad thing after all. Provided we don't smash into it, that is.

* * *

A/N: So, it's been nearly six years since I started this story, and nearly four since I last updated. Writing this, obviously, was really difficult, because my writing style has changed since then, and also because it's been harder and harder to get time to write. So this chapter is for all of you who stuck with this over the years and those who kept reviewing telling me to just hurry up and finish it already. You were right and I was just lazy. So this is to all of you. Thanks for the ride guys. It's been really fun.

Also special thanks to – if you're still around – hoolihoogrl131, svelte, embracing, and gosh, everyone who I haven't talked to in yonks. Feel free to drop a line this way if you're still around.

Anyway, this story is, _at last_, complete!


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